The House of Warm Rain
by Akabeko
Summary: A rich old lady brings a tale of prophetic dreams to Kantarou. HarukaKantarou.
1. Of Rain and Red Winged Demons

What started as a little Haruka/Kantarou h/c ficlet became a story with a plot. Who'd have thought.

Comments, as always, are appreciated. Thanks go to my lovely beta Cienna.

Tactics is not mine.

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**The House of Warm Rain**

Chapter I. Of Rain and Red-Winged Demons

_A rich old lady brings a tale of prophetic dreams to Kantarou_

It rains a lot in Tokyo. Not as much as in other parts of Japan, but still it does rain a lot. And there are lots of different types of rain. You can get anything from thunderous, ground-shaking storms to that invisible fine drizzle that always seems to get you soaked. But whatever the type of rain, it's all wet. And in the past three weeks it just hadn't stopped at all.

Kantarou lifted his head from his desk and sniffed miserably. Usually he didn't mind the rain so much, but three weeks of non-stop precipitation was a bit excessive. Day after grey day water poured from the sky and soaked the world beneath it. Everything seemed to be imbued with it; the roads turned to dirty streams, the wood of buildings damp and cold to the touch, and the tatami mats of every room reeking of old, rotting fabric.

He looked down at the untouched stack of paper before him. That too was warping in the moist atmosphere of his study. Kantarou frowned and turned his head to look at his bookshelves. In this weather his books would yellow and become distorted. He would have to dry them all out when the rain stopped. If it ever stopped. He sighed and lay his head back down on the table. More work he'd have to do. Not that he was doing any now, even after Youko had told him off for slacking at least three times already. But his head felt heavy and the paper-pillow under his cheek was surprisingly comfortable so he wasn't really surprised when he felt himself dozing off. Nor did Kantarou fight it. He felt inexplicably tired. He didn't care if Youko shouted at him again. He didn't even care how bad his limbs would ache from sleeping in such an odd position. And there it was still; the soft patter of the rain outside serving now only to make him more sleepy.

"KAN-CHAN!" Youko seemed almost to throw the doors aside before stepping dramatically into the room, hands placed firmly on hips and face set in a scowl so terrifying as to be worthy of the most vicious of demons.

"I KNEW it!" she announced. Kantarou lifted his head and with some not small amount of effort turned to stare blankly at her.

"I just KNEW you'd go back to slacking as soon as I was gone," she continued ranting, "You should be more responsible, Kan-chan... You're a disgraceful man! How are we going to afford to live..." The volume of her reproach made Kantarou's head throb unpleasantly so he tuned her angry voice out and instead watched her kimono sleeves swing and flap in bleary fascination as she gestured for emphasis. He wondered if perhaps he was still half asleep. It was strange, he thought, that he felt no desire to defend himself against Youko's onslaught.

"Kan-chan... KAN-CHAN! Are you even listening!" The best answer Kantarou could contrive was an uninspiring, "Huh?" Youko sighed in frustration.

"You are impossible!" She sighed again to emphasise the point then gestured towards the hallway. "We have a guest. They have a job for you. I'm going to make tea." With that she shot Kantarou an evil look ("Go earn some money, you lazy man!") then waltzed off down the corridor towards the kitchen ("Now").

Kantarou wearily pushed himself up off the floor and made his way out into the corridor towards the front room. He was really in no mood for work. His head just wouldn't stop spinning and he was finding his eyelids to be unreasonably weighted. Still, Youko was right. They desperately needed money. And of course there was always the chance of meeting a new youkai. That thought cheered him slightly as he gently slid open the door.

From the very first glance Kantarou could tell the guest was well off. She sat gracefully poised in a kimono probably worth more than the house, making even his best zabuton look like a dirty old cushion from a lowly drinking hole. The old lady held a fine, almost surgically white handkerchief to her face, dabbing her eyes delicately. Haruka sat in a corner, arms folded tightly, with a look of utter bewilderment on his face. He seemed to be trying to press himself further into the wall as though the woman's grief was infectious.

"Oh, Haruka-san," the old woman crooned between sobs, "It's all just so horrible..." It appeared they had not noticed his entrance. Haruka drew back even further in fright as the guest broke down into a fit of loud weeping. If the woman's crying had not been so miserable, Kantarou would have burst into laughter at Haruka's awkwardness. The Tengu looked up suddenly.

"Kantarou!" he cried. Kantarou thought Haruka sounded almost happy to see him. The guest followed Haruka's gaze towards Kantarou. She stared, making Kantarou squirm uncomfortably. In an effort to avoid her gaze he bowed and greeted his guest politely, reminding himself of how much someone so obviously wealthy could pay him. Apparently sensing his discomfort also the lady lowered her eyes and bowed in reply.

"It is nice to meet you, Ichinomiya-sensei? My name is Suzuki Kuumi," she said. Kantarou closed the door behind him and went to sit down opposite the guest. She resumed her sobbing.

"You'll have to excuse me," she said, "I'm not usually like this." Kantarou nodded and waited for the lady to speak.

"I didn't know who else to go to. I often read your articles you see… I always thought they were folklore stories and maybe they are but I don't know…" She was babbling incoherently so Kantarou thought it best to interrupt.

"What is it you wanted to see me about?" he asked gently.

"Dreams," she answered miserably. Kantarou nodded again, indicating for her to continue the tale.

"It all started three weeks ago. I had a very strange dream in which a man with red wings spoke to me." Haruka raised an eyebrow in interest. "He was very tall and handsome and he had a lovely smile..." The woman seemed lost in bitter reverie for a moment, tears continuing to fall down her pale, unblemished skin. Kantarou felt Haruka's eyes on him, questioning, as if he would know what to do. Then there was a muffled call from the hallway and Youko entered the room and served tea.

"What did he say, Suzuki-san?" Kantarou asked, thinking he could not help her unless he understood what this was about. The tea and his voice seemed to wake the woman from her depression a little.

"He told me..." she paused and shuddered, "He said my husband would be killed in a fire..." She looked miserably down at her tea.

"I understand," Kantarou said sadly. "Your husband was..." Suzuki Kuumi nodded.

"He was... killed last week in a factory fire." Haruka looked at Kantarou inquiringly.

"It was in the newspaper," Kantarou explained. "It struck me because no one could understand how the fire started." The lady sniffed and shook her head.

"But I don't think you do understand," she said. Kantarou looked at her curiously. "I thought maybe I was going mad after my husband was killed. I thought maybe I had just imagined the dream. I didn't believe it. Oh, I didn't want to believe it! But then... two days ago I had another dream..." Her face turned pale and she clutched her handkerchief tightly against her chest. "He came back... the man or demon or whatever he was, and he said... he said my son was going to die..."

tbc


	2. Why Tengu Should Never Hold Umbrellas

Much love to all reviewers and my beta. Further concrit always welcome.

Tactics remains not mine.

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**The House of Warm Rain**

II. Why Tengu Should Never Hold Umbrellas

_In which there is a walk in the rain and a serving of tea._

"She seemed insane to me." Haruka shoved his free hand deeper into his coat pocket and lifted the umbrella he was holding with the other a little higher, causing a cascade of water to fall on Kantarou. The shorter man mumbled unhappily at his misfortune and moved closer to Haruka's side.

"You're supposed to keep the rain off me with that, Haruka, not pour it on my head." Kantarou pulled his jacket tighter around his body in an attempt to stave off the cold, wet wind. He was beginning to wish he had never taken this job. Then he could have stayed at home where it was significantly drier. Maybe even gone to bed, if Youko had gone out somewhere. There he would be warm and cozy and he wouldn't have to think about article deadlines or money shortages or walking to the other side of Tokyo in a downpour with water running through his socks and an indifferent tengu shaking water onto his head with every step. Kantarou cursed the rain and he cursed the trains for not running. He cursed his sandals for not being waterproof, his clothes for being wet and his head for throbbing so painfully.

"Kantarou?" Haruka's voice cut through Kantarou's gloomy thoughts. He looked up at the taller man. If Kantarou didn't know better he would have thought the tengu looked worried.

"What's wrong with you?" he said, most unsympathetically Kantarou noted.

"Nothing," Kantarou grumbled, looking back at his feet as they walked on up the muddy street.

"You haven't said anything. You're too quiet," Haruka went on. Kantarou shrugged.

"It's the weather," he replied shortly. Haruka was silent for a while, but Kantarou could tell he was still looking at him.

"It was your idea to go to that woman's house," Haruka eventually spoke.

"I thought the trains would be running," Kantarou replied defensively. "How was I to know the train depot was flooded?" Haruka thought for a moment.

"I could fly us there," he suggested.

"We'll get wet," Kantarou answered.

"We're wet already," Haruka pointed out. Kantarou frowned.

"Only because you keep shaking the umbrella…" Kantarou sighed heavily. "We're nearly there anyway."

They trekked on through the rain in silence, the houses about them growing larger and the street becoming better paved as they went. Eventually they came to the gate they were looking for, a plaque bearing the name "Suzuki" beautifully engraved and painted hanging beside it. Kantarou knocked loudly and was received by a young servant.

"Ah. You must be Ichinomiya-sensei. Suzuki-sama called ahead to tell me you were coming. Please come in." The girl spoke politely and quickly showed them into the entrance.

"My! You're soaked! I'll bring some towels," she exclaimed, looking at the pair dripping water all over the entrance hall floor. She ran off leaving Kantarou and Haruka alone. Kantarou sneezed loudly and felt himself shiver. The sound reverberated eerily around the large entrance hall and the long, dark corridor leading from it.

"This house is empty," Haruka commented, his eyes taking in the area around them. Kantarou nodded.

"It doesn't feel like anyone lives here." Kantarou listened for a moment. "It's so quiet." He wondered if the chill in his spine was really just caused by the feel of soaked cloth against his skin. Then a soft but hurried padding could be heard coming towards them from the black corridor. Haruka and Kantarou turned to face the source of the sound and were relieved when the young servant girl appeared from the shadows holding two thick towels.

"Here," she offered. "I'll take your coats and hang them in the kitchen. Come over to the hearth and dry off a little." Kantarou gratefully removed his jacket and, rubbing his hair with the towel, stepped up into the house and followed the girl to the hearth room.

The room was little better than the entrance had been; large, dark and cold. Only by sitting right next to the fire could Kantarou feel any warmth. Haruka stood looking suspiciously around the room. There were few windows and even those were small and let in little natural light so a gas lamp had been lit to see by. The hearth also gave off something of a yellow glow. But even with this the corners of the room were hidden in thick shadows, as if they devoured what light managed to reach them. The dark wood of the walls and what little furniture there was only served to increase the effect.

"I don't like this house," he said, then sat down tensely beside Kantarou.

"Don't be rude, Haruka," the novelist whispered, though he couldn't help but agree. What he had seen of the house so far made him feel uneasy and unwelcome, even if he sensed no ghostly auras. He was glad Haruka was beside him. He knew the tengu felt the same unease or he would not have sat so close. Kantarou wondered if maybe this feeling was just the rain. Or his mood. Or the way he couldn't seem to stop shivering slightly. In any case, it didn't bode well.

"I brought you tea, Sensei," the girl said cheerfully when she returned to the room. Kantarou couldn't imagine what she had to be so cheerful about.

"Is there anyone else here?" Haruka asked. He was watching the servant girl closely as though she were an enemy who might attack at any moment. Kantarou elbowed Haruka and frowned at him. The girl, not seeming to notice, put her tray down beside the men and began pouring the tea as she answered more soberly.

"Just Sudou-san. He is… was the master's business partner. He's working in the office in the back. There is a lot of work to be done with the master gone…"

"The old woman and her son don't live here?" Haruka asked rudely.

"Haruka!" he chastised. Kantarou turned to the girl and apologized. She giggled softly.

"It's all right." She handed a teacup to Kantarou. "Suzuki-sama refuses to come back here. After she had that second dream she sent Daiki..."

"Her son?" Kantarou asked. She nodded, offering a cup to Haruka.

"She sent him to stay in a shrine. She wouldn't tell anyone where."

"And where is Suzuki-san staying?" Kantarou asked.

"With her brother." Haruka sat drinking his tea. He seemed to have lost interest in the conversation.

"You are here alone then? Have you seen anything?" Kantarou continued his questioning. The girl shook her head.

"I like this house so I don't mind being here alone, and I haven't seen anything like demons if that's what you mean. Now I must get on with my chores. Suzuki-sama said to let you look around so please do." She excused herself then, leaving Kantarou and Haruka alone again. Kantarou thoughtfully watched the tea leaves swirling in his cup. Outside the rain continued to fall, the sound again beginning to lull Kantarou towards sleep. He felt his grip on the teacup in his hands slacken.

"Kantarou!" Haruka's voice, precise and purposeful, so different from the soft patter of rain, awoke Kantarou with a start. His eyes met the tengu's. There was concern there, and impatience. "I don't like this place," Haruka reiterated. He set his cup down. "Let's get this over with."

tbc


	3. Black Paint

Usual disclaimers and thanks.

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**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter III. Black Paint

_A dark room, a light room and a staircase bring Haruka and Kantarou closer together._

There were times when Kantarou thought perhaps he had chosen the wrong career. Not novel writing. That was easy enough. No, he was thinking about his current job; exorcising Youkai. More precisely, exorcising demons. And there it was again; an almost gentle burn in his chest warning him that a demon was close by. But it was pain like he had not felt before. It seemed to come in waves rather than stabs, as though the demon was all around him. He rubbed his chest absently, trying to fathom what was going on.

"Is it a demon?" Haruka asked. Kantarou stopped and looked up at his friend.

"I'm…not sure…" Haruka raised an eyebrow and set his eyes to where Kantarou's hand lay on his chest. Kantarou giggled humourlessly.

"I suppose that was a give-away," he murmured. "But…it feels different."

"Different how?" Haruka asked. Kantarou looked around the room in which they stood, its walls as dark as the hearth room downstairs and the steep staircase up which they had climbed moments before. The floor looked dusty and moulding, deep indents and shadows in the old mats indicating where furniture used to stand. Watermarks could be seen trailing down the papered doors revealing yellow and patches of red patterning beneath black paint. How odd, Kantarou thought, to paint doors black that way. He breathed in deeply, trying to concentrate on the pain, but faltered and coughed, dust and musty smell irritating his nose and throat. He tried again.

"It's like the presence emanates from the room itself." He shook his head, not understanding at all. He looked back at Haruka questioningly.

"There's something vague…but I don't know…"

"Let's get out of this room," Kantarou said, but he had not taken three steps when he was struck with a new wave of pain. He stopped and lurched forward, cursing at the sudden discomfort, but then Haruka was there in front of him, asking if he was all right. He grasped the tengu's sleeve for balance and took a step toward the door, indicating to Haruka that he wanted to leave the room. And it was only a few steps too. Haruka shut the door behind them and the pain was gone. He breathed heavily in relief.

"What happened?" Haruka asked, his master still clinging to him. Kantarou straightened up and let go.

"It was as though, all of a sudden, I was standing right on top of a demon. Or it was just below me at least… but there was just the tatami…" He shuddered at the memory, but couldn't help laughing a little.

"Maybe the tatami is possessed," he giggled wearily. Haruka gave him a most disapproving sideways glance.

"I don't understand this and I don't like this," he said and turned towards the staircase. "We should leave."

"Ah… Haruka… wait!" Kantarou grabbed for Haruka's sleeve again. "We still need to look around the rest of the house." Haruka considered his master for a moment.

"Kantarou," he said, "You look ill." Kantarou let go of Haruka and sighed.

"Maybe so, but I promised Suzuki-san. And I want to know what's going on here." He turned away from the tengu and headed up the hall towards the rooms at the back of the house. Haruka hung back for a moment in indecision before giving in to his master's stubbornness and following him into another room.

It could not have been more different. The room was about the same size as the other, but lighter and cleaner. The tatami looked relatively new and a large, beautiful silk painting hung on one wall, untainted by watermarks or neglect. The doors were of cream paper, intricate flowers patterning the lower half. It was certainly a room that had been lived in. A well used looking chests-of-drawers stood in the corner beside a low dressing table.

"This room must be Suzuki-san's," Kantarou concluded. "Isn't this a strange house, Haruka? This room feels so different." He walked over to the room's large window and looked down at the garden below, rain still pouring down, leaving great tracts of water in the recesses of the sodden ground. Even with the rain and the constant chill, Kantarou certainly felt a lot better away from the dark and away from that room. And Haruka was still staring at him.

"Haruka," Kantarou said softly, turning to the other man. "I feel fine. It was just that room…" As if his body was staging a rebellion Kantarou suddenly felt lightheaded and flushed, even though he had been cold only moments before. He held onto the windowsill and attempted to get himself under control. "I'm fine…" he reiterated, more to convince himself than Haruka. Haruka in reply took Kantarou by the arm and dragged him from the room and out into the corridor.

"I'm taking you home," he growled, annoyed by his master's insufferable obstinance.

"Wha… No! Stop, Haruka!" Kantarou ordered, pulling against the stronger man's grip. Haruka felt himself halt mid stride, bound to the power of his name.

It seems the strength of _that_ hasn't lessened any, he thought cynically.

"I told you I was fine. Now we are going to check the rest of this house." Kantarou declared vehemently. Haruka frowned deeply.

"You can barely stand up! This is ridiculous!" he argued, and pulled Kantarou further up the corridor to the stairs. Kantarou resisted feebly, his frustration and annoyance at being dragged about growing with every step. By the time they reached the top of the stairs he had had enough. He was tired, his head hurt and all this fighting was making him feel sick. It occurred to him that he should just let Haruka take him home, but his pride would not allow him to lose a disagreement. He squirmed in the tengu's grasp.

"Let me go, Haruka," he demanded. And as much as Haruka could see what would happen if he let go now, he had no choice. So there at the very top of the stairs Haruka released his master, who immediately lost his balance and fell backwards, careening headfirst down the dark staircase.

tbc


	4. A Misunderstanding

Much love to all reviewers and anyone else following this story. Even more love, as usual, to my beta Cienna.

The usual disclaimers and such.

* * *

**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter IV. A Misunderstanding

_A man with a broom is met and matters are discussed in the kitchen._

Even in the split-second he had to make a decision, Haruka knew it was a bad idea. But a panic and fear for his master he would not admit even to himself sent him bounding after Kantarou, wings out in a vain attempt to break the fall. Haruka caught Kantarou around the shoulders and had just enough time and space to bring one wing up, causing them to veer sideways so that Haruka was now beneath Kantarou. The other wing was restricted by the proximity of the wall to his left and bent painfully as they turned, Kantarou held tightly in his arms. He could take a lot more damage than a human could, he reasoned. Then they hit the corridor wall at the bottom of the stairs and landed in a pile of mangled wings and limbs on the floor. Kantarou coughed and squirmed in Haruka's hold.

"That was… unexpected…" He giggled breathlessly, looking up at Haruka but making no move to get up. Haruka loosened his embrace but did not let go. With Kantarou so close to him now he could feel him shivering, even though the bare skin of his neck felt warm beneath his palm. Haruka sat up a little to get rid of his wings, painfully bent as they were, then slumped back against the wall when they were gone, tired and aching from the fall.

Seconds later there was a cry from the end of the hallway to their right and a male figure ran at them from the shadows, menacingly brandishing a broom.

"Burglars! Burglars!" he cried. Haruka growled in annoyance. He had not just survived flying down a stairwell to be beaten to death with a broom.

"Do we look like burglars to you?" Haruka shouted, pushing himself back into a sitting position.　　The man slowed his charge and lowered his broom, eyeing the scene before him suspiciously. Out of the shadows Haruka could see the approaching stranger properly. He was tall and broad, his eyes dark and calculating. A strange look Haruka could not discern spread over the man's face.

"No," he said, folding his arms authoritatively, "Now that you mention it, you certainly don't look like burglars. So I must ask; what exactly _are_ two men doing lying on top of each other on the floor of someone else's house?"

"Ah..." Kantarou laughed in the friendliest voice he could muster, "We fell down the stairs..." He pushed himself off of Haruka's chest and sat back on his knees, coughing slightly. "We were investigating..." he began, but was interrupted by the arrival of the maid from the other end of the corridor.

"Ichinomiya-sensei! Are you alright? I heard a lot of noise... Did you fall down the stairs? It's very easy to do. They're so steep and dark..." she babbled incessantly as she rushed over to help Kantarou up off the floor.

"Thank you, thank you, " Kantarou said, brushing himself down briskly.

"You know these people, Saori?" the man asked the maid.

"Yes. Suzuki-sama sent them to investigate the master's death," she told him. He raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"Did she now?" He paused and looked down at Haruka who was still trying to get up off the floor. The stranger reached out a hand.

"Here," he offered. "I'm Sudou Takeshi. Sorry about the misunderstanding." Haruka took his hand grudgingly at Kantarou's glare. "But it's not everyday you find strange men at the bottom of your staircase lying in each other's arms like that." Sudou Takeshi smirked and looked meaningfully at Kantarou.

"Like WHAT exactly?" Haruka demanded, already feeling a deep dislike for this new character.

"Nothing. Nothing," he replied innocently and turned away. "Anyway, come into the kitchen and have a drink. Your friend looks like he needs it." Haruka looked back at Kantarou. The maid was still holding him up, asking him what was wrong. Kantarou was holding his leg.

"I don't think this is my day," he laughed meekly. "I must have hit my leg when we fell." Haruka rolled his eyes. It was truly shocking, he thought, how fragile humans were. He wondered how they managed to survive at all.

"Here." The tengu offered his arm to Kantarou who took it gladly, leaning heavily on his friend as he limped the short distance to the kitchen.

"Sit on the edge there, Ichinomiya-san was it?" He indicated towards the end of the wooden flooring. Kantarou gingerly sat himself down and Haruka did the same beside him. The maid stepped off the wooden floor into her shoes and busied herself cleaning a cloth in the sink.

"Have some of this." Sudou handed Kantarou a cup of steaming sake. "I was warming it for myself, but it looks like you need it more." Kantarou thanked him and took a sip. It was very good sake; warmed perfectly and not too sweet. He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the sensation of the warm liquid flowing into his stomach. He breathed deeply, the warmth and alcohol calming his shivers and clearing his head.

"Ichinomiya-sensei?" The maid stood nervously in front of Kantarou. "Is it all right to look at your leg?" Kantarou laughed, put the cup down and lifted the left leg of his hakama. Beneath the material, Kantarou's knee was already showing signs of swelling. His lower leg looked red and bruised.

"That must have been some fall," Sudou commented, looking curiously at Kantarou's exposed leg.

"They're steep stairs, Sudou-san," Kantarou replied, wincing as the maid placed a cool, damp cloth on his knee. Sudou sat himself down next to Kantarou and poured him more sake.

"They are, they are," he agreed. He paused for a moment before speaking again. "So Suzuki-san hired you to investigate, did she? You don't exactly look like that's the kind of work you do." He lowered his voice a little. "Did she tell you about her dreams? I thought she might be a little crazy, what with her husband's death..." He laughed. "Demons! She thinks it's demons! How absurd!" Kantarou sighed and shook his head.

"I'm a folklorist, Sudou-san, and I believe there must be something to Suzuki-san's dreams," he said firmly. There was a look of surprise on Sudou's face.

"In any case, you were her late husband's business partner, right?" Kantarou asked, taking another sip of warm sake. The pain in his knee still burned even with the cold cloth on it.

"I was," Sudou replied stiffly, as though reluctant to talk about it.

"Are you staying in this house?" It was Haruka speaking now. Sudou looked confused.

"Are you investigating the death or the house?" he asked. Haruka shrugged.

"Well are you?" he asked again.

"I stay here sometimes yes. There is a lot of work to be done so I often don't finish until late," Sudou answered.

"How long have you known the Suzuki family?" Kantarou asked then.

"Many years. We built the business together right out of University, the master and I." Kantarou looked thoughtfully at Sudou Takeshi.

"Why does everyone refer to him as 'the master'?" he asked. Sudou laughed loudly at that.

"Ah! He was such a forceful fellow. So loud and abrupt. Suzuki-san's brother always said he must be the reincarnation of an ancient warlord!"

"Suzuki-san's brother..." Kantarou repeated. "Did they get along, he and the master?" Sudou-san eyed Kantarou suspiciously.

"No. They were rivals in business. But surely you can't think he had anything to do with the death? Anyway, I thought it was just an accident."

"No, I don't think he had anything to do with it. And I don't know if it was an accident or not yet." Kantarou drained the last of the sake, then shakily stood up with the help of Haruka. "In any case, we should be going." He made to turn away from Sudou but stopped and tuned back. "I have one more question. Why are the doors of the front room upstairs painted black?" There was a cold silence. Haruka noticed the maid looking at Sudou fearfully, as though afraid of what he would say. Sudou's expression remained impassive but Kantarou could feel the other man's body tense.

"What strange questions you ask," he answered with strained humour. "The room has always been like that." Kantarou smiled.

"I was just curious," he said, then, bidding his farewells to their new acquaintance, limped back towards the entrance hall.

tbc


	5. Haruka's Woe

A weekend treat for all the lovely readers! Usual thanks and disclaimers. Updates may slow down a bit now as I am nearly caught up with the chapters I have edited and beta'd. This chapter contains heavier Haruka/ Kantarou than previous chapters. Just so's you know. Concrit and comments always appreciated!

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**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter V. Haruka's Woe

_Of Haruka's Wings._

There was a loud banging at the door. Youko, peacefully sewing, jumped in surprise. She set down her work and went out into the corridor, approaching the entranceway　cautiously. It sounded as though someone was kicking the door. There was a cough and a muffled protest, then she heard Haruka's familiar voice.

"I told you it was a bad idea." There was another cough, then she could make out Kantarou's voice, quiet and low.

"But I needed to..." The banging started again, cutting off the end of Kantarou's sentence.

"Oi! Youko! Open the door!" Haruka called loudly. Youko ran the rest of the way to the door and did as she was asked.

"It wasn't locked or anything. Why didn't you just... oh!" She stopped dead. With the door open she could see exactly why the two men hadn't opened the door themselves. Kantarou waved meekly at Youko from Haruka's arms.

"Could you step aside so we can come in, Youko-chan? It's raining rather hard out here," he said, his voice gravelly and strained. She stepped aside, silently watching as Haruka walked sideways through the open front door being careful that Kantarou did not get caught on the doorframe.

"What's that face for, Youko?" Haruka asked moodily, shuffling off his shoes. They were both soaking wet.

"Ah!" Youko cried, "You two are dripping on the floor."

"Blame our stupid master for that," Haruka said, stepping up into the house.

"Don't you dare come in, Haruka-chan!" Youko squealed. "You'll make the floor messy! I'll get you some towels. Wait there..." She sped off up the corridor, shouting behind her, "And don't think either of you will get any dinner if you so much as think about coming in!" Kantarou looked up at Haruka in disbelief.

"She has no compassion, that girl!" he complained, then coughed and looked away from Haruka's accusatory look. "You can put me down now. I can walk, you know, even if I can't fly."

"I doubt you can walk either," Haruka replied flatly. "You looked terrible back at the factory. You look worse now." Kantarou scowled.

"Oh, that's nice!" he huffed, but didn't argue any further. He sighed. "This is the second time today we've been left in the entrance hall." Haruka looked at the man he was holding, then down the corridor in front of him.

"Youko!" he called, "Hurry up! It's freezing over here!" There was a muffled response then Youko returned with some towels.

"You're still holding Kan-chan, Haruka-chan," she said, as though Haruka hadn't noticed. Kantarou took a towel from Youko and put it around Haruka's shoulders.

"He's sick and hurt his leg," Haruka told her. Youko squealed in near-panic.

"Why didn't you say so, Haruka-chan!" She quickly wrapped her master's head in a towel.

"Youko-chan..." Kantarou protested feebly. She wrapped another towel around him as best she could.

"I read in a magazine that most of the body's heat escapes through your head so this should be the best way to keep you warm," she explained, then commanded; "Take him upstairs immediately, Haruka-chan!" Haruka rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Youko ran off to the kitchen to put some water on to boil. Kantarou tried to unravel the towel from his head.

"Put your arms down, Kantarou, or they'll hit the walls," Haruka said. Kantarou moaned in protest but put his arms down away, and rubbed his chest absent-mindedly.

"Does it hurt still?" Haruka asked, reaching the top of the stairs and stepping into Kantarou's room. Kantarou clasped his hands together.

"A bit..." He looked up and smiled, "But at least now we know the fire was definitely caused by a demon..." Haruka put Kantarou down on the tatami and wrapped the towel more tightly around his master.

"Hey..." Kantarou protested, "I can't move my arms with it this tight..."

"I've a good mind to tie you up..." Kantarou choked, but Haruka either didn't notice or wasn't aware of the suggestion he had just made.

"...I told you going to the factory was a bad idea. You were in a bad enough state. But you ordered me so I had to take you. And then you had to look around..." Haruka paused and looked up into his master's eyes. "You are insufferable." Kantarou laughed softly.

"Right then, you two," Youko stalked into the room with an armful of clothes and towels. She threw some at Haruka. "Go and get changed," she ordered. "And make sure to dry your hair!" she called after him as he obediently went to his room across the hall. "Kan-chan..." She almost laughed; her soaked, forlorn-looking master was so tightly wrapped up. But now that she looked closely he looked even paler than usual and his eyes were black-rimmed and half-closed. He was shivering and coughed repeatedly. "Kan-chan..." she said more softly, kneeling down beside him. She started unwrapping the towel around his head. "What have you been doing? You look a mess! I'm going to have to tell Haruka-chan off for letting you get in such a state!"

"Don't blame Haruka. I made him go. But we found out quite a lot..." Kantarou, now free of the towels, stood up unsteadily and started peeling off his sopping clothes.

"For all the good it will do you now!" Youko said angrily, pulling Kantarou's futon out of the cupboard. "I'm not letting you out of this house until you are well!" As she laid out the mattress she caught sight of Kantarou's bruised leg. "What happened?" she cried, leaning over the mattress to get a better look.

"We fell down some stairs." Kantarou pulled on the yukata Youko had brought for him, covering his leg. Youkou sat back and looked up at Kantarou.

"At Suzuki-san's house?" she asked. He nodded.

"I heard Haruka say you went to the factory too. What were you thinking, doing that in your state?" She indicated for Kantarou to sit down on the futon in front of her then began vigourously toweling his hair dry.

"Ow... Youko, what's with you and drying hair..." She rubbed harder.

"Answer the question, Kan-chan." Kantarou sighed in defeat.

"I needed to be sure that the fire was not simply an accident," he explained.

"And now you are sure?" she asked. Kantarou nodded again.

"It must have been a very strong demon." He put his hand over his chest. "I felt it so strongly I thought it was still there, in the ruins of the factory, but we couldn't find anything." He looked thoughtfully out the window. "Maybe I should research fire demons..."

"You will do no such thing!" Youko grabbed Kantarou by the shoulders and pushed him down onto the futon. "You will stay right there," she ordered, pulling several warm blankets over her master and tucking them tightly around him. "I'm going to go and make you two some tea and something to eat." She shot him one more warning look ("Just you _dare_ move!") before picking up the wet towels from the floor and leaving the room.

Kantarou was just drifting off to sleep when there was a great clamour from Haruka's room. Seconds later the tengu stormed in, wings flapping wildly.

"Look at this!" he cried, pointing towards his wings. "Look at the mess they're in!" Kantarou blearily sat up and looked. Haruka was right. They were in a mess. Many of his feathers were bent and ruffled and the left wing itself looked slightly crooked. Kantarou couldn't help but giggle.

"It's not FUNNY! This is all because you fell down those stairs. And then made me fly all over the place in the rain. LOOK at what happened to them! " Haruka wailed. The tengu sagged in misery. "They're ruined!"

"Don't be so melodramatic, Haruka," Kantarou said, amused by the tengu's vanity. "Come over here and I'll see what I can do." Haruka eyed his master suspiciously for a moment, to be sure he wasn't being made fun of, before going and sitting down on the futon, his back to Kantarou. Kantarou took the towel that still hung around his friend's neck and began smoothing the feathers straight with it.

"Ah," Kantarou said cheerfully. "This seems to be working." Haruka tried to turn around to see but Kantarou stopped him. "Trust me, Haruka," he said. "Besides, if you turn around you'll hit me with your other wing."

They sat in silence for a time, Kantarou carefully flattening the feathers with the towel and his hands.

"They're very soft, Haruka," Kantarou commented quietly. Haruka humphed non-committally.

"You alright?" he asked. Kantarou smiled.

"I feel better now I'm dry and away from all those demons. Or maybe I should say demon auras, seeing as we didn't actually come across any demons..." They fell into silence again.

"Could you straighten the wing?" Haruka asked eventually. Kantarou reached up hesitantly.

"It won't hurt will it?" Haruka shook his head and leaned backwards so Kantarou could easily reach.

"Not if it's you..." Kantarou giggled.

"I always knew you liked me really!" He took the top of the wing in his hand and gently bent it back the right way.

"Thanks." Haruka said, turning to face Kantarou.

"Sorry, Haruka," Kantarou said quietly. "I don't think I can do any more..." He laid back down on the futon and closed his eyes. "Just too tired..." Haruka watched as Kantarou pulled the covers up over himself and lay there shivering. He looked so pale and weak. Haruka made a quick inspection of his wings. They were mostly back to normal now. The rest he could do himself. Haruka wondered if perhaps he had overreacted a bit earlier. He also wondered if maybe he had been very selfish; letting Kantarou smooth down his wings even though he knew full well how ill the human was. But he had been surprised to find he had rather enjoyed Kantarou's touch. It had been relaxing, and Kantarou had been so careful and meticulous.

"Where did Youko go?" he asked.

"To make us some food," Kantarou answered without opening his eyes. The tengu sighed. His wings gone, he climbed under the covers beside Kantarou. Kantarou shuffled over to make room but said nothing, just turned over and curled up against his friend's chest. He was just paying Kantarou back for helping him with his wings, Haruka told himself. As he drifted off to sleep himself, he wondered idly what Youko would think when she saw them like this. But at that moment he was really too comfortable to care.

tbc


	6. At The Shrine Of His Mother

Usual disclaimers and thanks.

* * *

**The House of Warm Rain**

VI. At the Shrine of His Mother

_Another member of the Suzuki family is revealed at the family shrine_

Kantarou thought he would go insane if he stayed in his room any longer. Three days he had been lying there. Three days in which the demon could have killed again, and Youko hadn't let him get anywhere near his research books. Stubbornness was definitely a youkai trait, he decided.

On the second day, Kantarou had attempted to enlist the aid of Haruka in an effort to smuggle in books. Haruka however valued his life and had run off downstairs as soon as he understood what Kantarou was asking, fearful of Youko's wrath. Seconds later Youko erupted into his room threatening to gag him. Haruka smirked behind her, amused at having finally got the better of his manipulative master. Kantarou did not appreciate this and spent the next few hours devising ever more bizarre ways in which he could punish his obstinate tengu.

As well as threats and avoidance tactics, the two youkai had enlisted everyone they knew in an effort to keep Kantarou in bed. Even Reiko had come over with a get-well offering, saying that the editor had approved a week's extension on his latest article. Kantarou had to wonder what Youko had done to manage that. The glint of terror in Reiko's eyes made him think threats might have been involved. Kantarou thought perhaps Youko was garnering some rather bad habits from him.

The sound of footfalls up the stairs interrupted Kantarou's thought. There was a cursory tap at the door before Haruka pushed it aside, and entered the room bearing a tea tray.

"Youko said to bring these," he said, sitting down on the floor beside Kantarou's futon. Kantarou scowled at him, still annoyed at his treacherous behaviour.

"Don't look at me like that." The tengu poured tea and offered it to Kantarou. "It was for your own good." Kantarou sat up and took the cup.

"I only wanted to read," he mumbled.

"But you wouldn't have just read," Haruka retorted. Kantarou could feel Haruka watching him as he drink his tea. "Maybe Youko would let you now. You should ask her." Kantarou looked at Haruka incredulously and snorted, thinking Haruka was enjoying his illness far too much.

"I'm not a child, Haruka!" he said heatedly. Haruka crossed his arms and smirked.

"Sometimes I wonder…"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean!" Kantarou cried.

"That you act like a child sometimes." Kantarou sipped the hot tea sulkily and turned to look out the window, unwilling to dignify that comment with a retort. Outside the rain still fell, the grey sky perfectly matching his mood. He watched it for a time in silence, trying not to think about Haruka seeing him as a child, trying not to think about that house and that room and that staircase.

"Ne, Haruka…" Kantarou spoke quietly. "I never thanked you for coming after me down those stairs." Haruka paused for a moment, surprised at the honest gratefulness in Kantarou's voice.

"If you died I'd be stuck with this name forever," he said flatly, unsure how to respond to Kantarou's sudden melancholy. Kantarou turned to look at him, a soft smile on his face.

"You've decided you don't like your name?" he asked. Haruka shrugged but said nothing. From downstairs they could hear the telephone ringing. Then Youko was shouting up the stairs.

"Haruka-chan, come and answer the phone! It's about Suzuki-san!" Haruka stared at Kantarou.

"You don't want to?" Kantarou asked, amused by Haruka's dislike of strangers.

"No," Haruka replied.

"Then help me downstairs and I'll do it," Kantarou offered. Haruka threw his master a doubtful look.

"Youko will kill us."

"No she won't. I'm much better now and she knows it." Kantarou hauled himself off the futon and limped his way to the stairs. Haruka followed closely behind him.

"If she gets angry I'm telling her you ordered me," Haruka whispered as they descended the stairs. Kantarou laughed.

"Who'd have thought? The big scary Demon-Eating Tengu afraid of our Youko!" Haruka scoffed.

"You're her master and you are too." Kantarou had to concede the point.

At the sight of Kantarou limping up the corridor towards the phone Youko growled threateningly, looking accusingly at Haruka who shrugged and looked away.

"I'm fine, Youko. Now hand over the phone," Kantarou said. She gave him a disapproving look but handed over the phone anyway. Kantarou took the phone and watched in amusement as Youko stalked off to harass Haruka.

"Ichinomiya-sensei?" asked an unknown voice on the other end of the phone. Kantarou put the phone closer to his ear.

"Yes?"

"This is Suzuki Daiki. I think there are some things you should know..."

* * *

"Well doesn't this feel familiar." Kantarou sighed and watched the rain drip from his umbrella. At least he had his own this time. Haruka gave him a knowing look.

"I know, I know, Haruka. It was my idea to come out. At least the trains were running. And it's only a short walk away from here. It's not even raining so hard now." Kantarou looked up at his brooding friend as cheerfully as he could manage, given the continued greyness and listlessness of the sodden town.

"Youko will be angry when we get back," Haruka said, continuing to throw Kantarou doubtful looks. Kantarou grinned mischievously.

"Don't worry. I'll silence her with a charm."

"I don't think that will help." Haruka looked around the street with mild interest. "Anyway, where is it we are going exactly?"

"To the Suzuki family shrine. I thought it best for Daiki-kun to stay there," Kantarou replied.

"You just wanted to get out of the house," Haruka said. Kantarou chuckled.

"Well…that too…" Haruka studied his master for a moment. He was certainly a lot better than he had been, but he was certainly not back to his annoyingly cheerful self. His smiles and laughter were more sullen and forced. And he still heavily favoured his right leg.

"You're still limping," Haruka said. Kantarou ignored the comment.

"Look, we're nearly there," he said instead, speeding up a little. Just up the street Haruka could see the top of the red Toori gate rising above the houses and shops surrounding it.

"They must be REALLY rich to afford a shrine this big…" Kantarou had a gleam in his eye Haruka knew all too well. Walking through the gate now, they could see the shrine itself. It looked old; the wood stained and covered in charms. Beside the shrine stood a newer looking house. It was from here that Suzuki Daiki emerged to greet them.

"Ichinomiya-sensei!" Daiki called, walking quickly towards them. "My mother said you were…distinctive." Kantarou frowned momentarily, but the stranger seemed friendly enough so he let it pass and greeted the man politely.

"Shall we go inside? It's not good to stand in the rain and mother said you had something of an accident at the house," Daiki said, leading the two into the house. Kantarou waved his hand dismissively and smiled.

"Yes. We fell down the stairs. But it was not serious so don't worry about it," Kantarou replied cheerily. Daiki nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mother was worried as she had not heard from you. I am glad you were not hurt," he said. They were led into a sparsely but elegantly furnished room and were seated on richly coloured cushions. Kantarou shifted uncomfortably on his bruised leg.

"Ichinomiya-sensei." Daiki spoke nervously, his hands gripping each other so tightly the skin was turning white. "Do you really think… a… demon…or a ghost…or something… killed my father?"

"I am sure it was a demon," Kantarou replied, watching Daiki's reaction closely. His face turned grim but not entirely surprised.

"You don't think it could have been a ghost?" he asked. The question surprised Kantarou.

"Why do you ask that?" Daiki looked around him, looked at the table around which they all sat, looked anywhere but into Kantarou's eyes.

"My sister…this shrine is dedicated to her," Daiki said, lowering his voice even thought Kantarou had seen no evidence of anyone else in the building.

"You had a sister?" Kantarou asked gently. Daiki nodded mournfully.

"My mother would not have said. It was too painful for her. And she never really believed it anyway…" Daiki trailed off, embarrassed.

"Believed what?" It was Haruka who asked now, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"That… my sister, some years ago, was possessed by something. It killed her." Kantarou suddenly understood. He remembered the feeling of death and despair, the anger and hatred, and he remembered the grooves in the mats as though furniture had once stood there.

"That room? The one with black walls… that was your sister's room." He paused. "She died there."

"It was the demon!" Daiki spoke quietly but he was shaking and his face was blotched red in anger. "It killed her!"

"You think it was her ghost and not the demon?" Kantarou asked as soothingly as he could, but he did not understand. "Why?" For a moment Daiki looked Kantarou in the eye as though he were being accused of the murder himself. Then the look was gone, to be replaced by sadness.

"I thought maybe she was angry at us for…not saving her."

"You remember her here at this shrine, don't you? I am sure she rests in peace because of that, Daiki-kun." Kantarou tried to make his voice sound reassuring, though he couldn't be certain himself. Still, he thought, It was definitely a demon and not a ghost he had sensed both in the house and the factory. "Perhaps the demon that possessed your sister has returned. It might bear some grudge against your family," Kantarou suggested. Daiki still looked doubtful.

"I thought we…exorcised the demon. But perhaps…" The man was starting to look pale now.

"I think you have told us enough, Daiki-kun." Kantarou stood up. "I will look into this matter further, but I think you should be safe here at the shrine for now." Daiki nodded and bid them farewell.

Out on the street again Haruka finally spoke.

"He was lying." The tengu watched as Kantarou shook his head slowly in disagreement.

"No, Haruka, he was telling the truth." Kantarou, his leg stiff and painful from sitting, took Haruka's arm for support. "But he certainly wasn't telling us everything."

tbc


	7. The History Of A House

Thanks and disclaimers as usual. Comments appreciated.

* * *

**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter VII. The History of a House

_What's in a name and the beginning of the End._

The folklore section of the library was dark and dusty. Down here, amongst the ancient tattered volumes, Kantarou had spent so much time in the past desperately searching for his Demon Eating Tengu that he had read almost every book there. He stood tapping the shelves, trying to ignore the dust irritating his nose and eyes.

"If there's nothing here let's go home," Haruka suggested for the fourth time. He lifted his head from the table and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't understand how Kantarou could stand the atmosphere of the place. The dark he didn't mind, but the whole library smelt so rotten and decaying it was a miserable place to be. Kantarou didn't stop tapping. He didn't even look up. His brow was creased in concentration, like he was trying to remember something important. It seemed to Haruka as though the man hadn't even heard him.

"Oi, Kantarou..." Haruka's raised voice echoed around the empty library. Kantarou sighed.

"I know, I know... but... there must be something..." He turned his attention back to the shelves and began rifling through the volumes once more, throwing up a new cloud of dust. Haruka stood up and went over to stand beside Kantarou.

"Kantarou. You've been doing this for hours. Let's go home." Kantarou took a small book from the shelf and began leafing through its moulding pages.

"It's fine. You can go home if you like," he told Haruka without looking up from the pages of the book. Haruka frowned and wondered, not for the first time, why Kantarou had to be so stubborn. He grabbed Kantarou's wrist to ensure he had his full attention. Kantarou looked up at the tengu in surprise.

"You are so unreasonable." Haruka took the book from his master's hand and put it back on the shelf. "Enough. I'm hungry and Youko will be mad that we've been out all day." He did not let go of Kantarou's wrist, but also did not make any attempt to force Kantarou to leave, remembering what had happened when he had tried that before. Kantarou looked away from Haruka's eyes, face miserable with defeat.

"I... um..." Kantarou stammered and shifted uncomfortably. "I want to know what is going on, Haruka," he said quietly.

"Why? Why are you so obsessed with this?" Haruka studied his master's face closely. He looked tired and worried, and there was discomfort there too. Haruka wondered if Kantarou was really as well as he purported to be.

"I'm not obsessed! It's just that… I can't forget that room. When I felt that demon. Just thinking about it makes me feel..." Kantarou shook his head. "I don't know." Haruka took Kantarou's other wrist and squeezed gently.

"You're such an idiot, Kantarou," he said. Kantarou looked up at the tengu. His face was so serious and sincere Kantarou couldn't help but giggle.

"Are you worried about me, Haruka?" he chuckled kindly. Haruka looked away and scowled.

"No," he said shortly. But Kantarou did not miss the blush on the tengu's cheeks. "Anyway," Haruka went on, desperate to change the subject. "Seeing as you can't find anything about the demon why not try the house?"

"The house?"

Haruka shrugged.

"I knew a house that was possessed once. And you said you felt it all around you."

"The house..." Kantarou wondered how he had not thought of it. But then he had not exactly been at his best lately. He grinned at Haruka. "Thanks, Haruka!" he said, then looked down at his arms and giggled. "Ah... but I'll need my hands, if that's alright..." Haruka hastily let go of his master and mumbled an apology. Kantarou smiled at him again.

"This will take a while so you should go home, Haruka," he said as they walked up the stairs towards the main part of the library. Haruka shrugged again.

"It doesn't smell so bad up here," he replied, and made himself comfortable on a reading chair as Kantarou began rifling through old newspapers and public records. It was not long before the tengu was fast asleep. Kantarou stopped and watched his friend thoughtfully for a moment.

"I know I'm an idiot, Haruka," Kantarou whispered, a sad smile on his lips. "But I won't let go of you either."

* * *

Haruka was just about ready to start pulling his hair out. And it wasn't even midday yet.

"Why are we back here?" He was whining and he knew it, but nothing good would come of this. Kantarou chose to ignore him.

"I'm glad it has almost stopped raining, Haruka," he said instead, taking a sip of tea from the cup in his hand. "It's an omen." Haruka looked around agitatedly.

"An omen of our imminent doom," he murmured under his breath. Despite the improved weather, the hearth room of the Suzuki house looked just as dark and forbidding as before. Somewhere in the house the telephone rang. Kantarou listened to it distractedly for a moment before speaking again.

"Haruka, it won't be like last time. I'm not ill and we know what we're doing." Haruka frowned and looked at his master doubtfully.

"We do?" he asked dryly.

"We do," Kantarou replied firmly. "From what I can tell, people have been dying in this house for decades. Some of the newspaper reports even mentioned that room..." Kantarou shivered, trying not to think how close that place was. "Anyway, it must be that the house is possessed, as you said. The locals even gave the house a name; "The House of Warm Rain", because so many people's blood has flowed here. Dramatic, isn't it? The ghosts of those killed must only serve to make things worse. "

"Wouldn't someone have tried to exorcise the place before?"

"It seems the demon possesses those that live here as well as the house, so only people have been exorcised." Kantarou put down his cup and smoothed down the material of his beautifully patterned clothing. "Still, I'm sure that room is the source of all this." Haruka continued to cast Kantarou doubtful looks.

Haruka was on the verge of asking Kantarou if he had ever actually exorcised a house before, when an ear-splitting scream rang out above them. There was a loud thud and Kantarou was on his feet, beads in hand and rushing towards the hall.

"It's coming from that room…" There was fear in his voice. It made Haruka uneasy. He scrambled after his master, reaching the hallway in time to see Kantarou starting up the stairs. He froze there, that uneasy feeling grown into terror. It was something he had not felt for a long time.

"Kantarou," Haruka called. "Wait…" Though he wasn't sure why he should wait. In any case, Kantarou didn't seem to hear and continued scrambling up the staircase, seemingly doing his very best to ignore the pain in his leg and the growing discomfort in his chest.

Haruka sprinted the few steps to the stairs, determined to stop Kantarou from getting any nearer to the room. But he was so focused on Kantarou's progress he did not see Sudou Takeshi careening towards him from the other end of the corridor. The collision sent Haruka sprawling onto his back with Sudou lying on his chest. His head connected painfully with the polished wood floor and it took him a moment to gather his senses. There was a thud upstairs, as though the sliding doors had been slammed shut. Haruka thought this odd. Why would Kantarou close the door behind him? He heard voices; Kantarou was talking to someone.

"Get off me," Haruka growled and pushed the dazed Sudou to the side. He picked himself up off the floor and made for the stairs again, his head still spinning slightly from the impact. Climbing the stairs now, he could hear the muffled sound of a woman's voice. The sound sent shivers down Haruka's spine. It was so spiteful and angry, and dripping with icy malevolence. Haruka scrambled the last few steps in something of a panic. The owner of that voice was in _that_ room _alone_ with Kantarou. The thought ripped at his chest as he reached the door. He made to open it but found he couldn't. He tugged again, the voice inside growing steadily louder. Haruka banged at the door, demanded admittance but was quickly rebuked by Kantarou;

"Stop it, Haruka!" he shouted back, irritation evident in his voice. "You'll make her even angrier!" Not that Haruka cared. He would have told Kantarou that too, but he could hear his master talking quickly now. Haruka put his ear to the door. He could hear the woman's voice again, making him shudder involuntarily. There was scuffling then, and he thought he could hear Kantarou chanting but the woman let out another scream, just as loud and painful as before, drowning out any other sounds in the room. Haruka resumed trying to force his way in, this time drawing forth his staff. When the screaming stopped suddenly, Haruka paused in surprise. He thought he heard Kantarou call his name. Then there was silence.

tbc


	8. A Death In The Family

Another week, another chapter. This story is getting less and less _mild_ Haruka/Kantarou as it goes along. Just to warn you all. Yep, a nice bit of melodrama. As usual, thanks to all reviewers and my beloved beta, and to anyone still sticking with this rather over-long story.

* * *

**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter VIII. A Death in the Family

_How not to exorcise a house and some mournful news is received_

"It's coming from that room…" Kantarou tore round the corner, certain that whatever lingered in the house had found another human to possess, and meant to kill. He felt it. Such viciousness and cruelty. So filled with hatred at nothing and everything all at once. He bounded up the stairs, ignoring the ache in his knee and the growing discomfort in his chest. He heard Haruka tell him to wait, but there was no time. Haruka would follow anyway, he was sure, and that thought gave him the strength to run the last few steps towards the accursed room.

The door was shut. The last echoes of the scream had died away to be replaced by a tense quietness. Kantarou could hear no sound coming from within the room. He took a deep breath and gently pushed the door aside to be confronted with the burning red eyes of the maid possessed by…something. Her face twisted grotesquely in rage, but she did not move, just stared at him. Kantarou took a cautious step forward onto the tatami.

"Who are you," he asked gently. The air in the room was becoming thick as though filled with a mixture of dust and the humidity of a summer's day. The door slammed closed behind him and Kantarou swirled around in surprise. He tried not to panic, even though he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Kantarou turned back to the woman, grasping tightly at the beads hidden within his long sleeves. She was still staring at him.

"I can help you," he said, taking another small step forward. "I can…" He stopped dead, clasping his hand to his mouth in horror. The room was different. There was furniture now. He was sure it hadn't been there a moment ago. But it was covered with dark spatters. They covered the walls and the doors, no longer painted black but a pattern of dripping red on aged white.

"You can see it." The possessed maid's voice was quiet with controlled anger. She sneered cruelly. Kantarou held his hands to his chest. Her every word cut through him like an icy chill. "This is what they did to me."

"You are…the demon they exorcised?" he asked sadly. There was just so much blood, and so much vindictiveness. It must have hurt so much. Kantarou's eyes burned with tears. But she shook her head and laughed humourlessly.

"Not really," she said. Kantarou looked away, unable to bear the look in her eyes any longer. Unable to bear the way she looked at him; hungry, vengeful, merciless. He had felt this before, when he had been in this room before. On the very tatami she now stood. But now it was soaked red and Kantarou understood.

"They…killed you." Kantarou grasped his beads more tightly within his sleeves and took another small step forward. "You are…" There was a hammering at the door. Haruka was shouting. The possessed maid growled angrily. Kantarou grimaced. Haruka was only making it worse.

"Stop it Haruka!" he shouted, "You'll make her even angrier." He lowered his voice and spoke quickly, trying to deflect the woman's attention from Haruka. "Please, I understand why you are so angry, but it does no good for you to be here," he pleaded. The woman's eyes shifted between the door and Kantarou. She smiled maliciously and stepped forward, reaching out her arms towards Kantarou.

"You understand nothing. I will have what I want." Kantarou recoiled at the hiss in her voice, that vague, undefined hatred finding form now in her eyes. The room was returning to black, and the pain in his chest becoming more acute with every passing moment. He would have to do something soon or he would be helpless.

"Please," he pleaded again, "Revenge is meaningless..."

"Revenge?" She laughed coldly. "That's not all I want." There it was again. That hungry look, as though she meant to devour him, and then she was right in front of Kantarou, grasping at his throat. He put his hands together and mouthed a chant as best he could between gasps. Between the lack of air and the pain in his chest, the spell was barely strong enough to throw the maid back, but still she screamed in frustration and rage. She made another attempt at his throat but Kantarou was ready this time and quickly intoned another chant. The woman fell to her knees and cowered on the tatami, covering her ears with her hands, her piercing screams ending abruptly.

"I will have what I want," she repeated, voice quiet and strained but certain. Then her eyes closed and the maid's body sank lifelessly to the tatami. Kantarou panted heavily, breathless and exhausted. The demon may have left the maid's body but it lingered in the room. He could feel it everywhere. With every breath he took it burned his lungs. It blocked his ears. His skin stung at its touch. He tried to take a step back, but the presence surrounded him, making every movement feel like wading through nails.

"Haruka..." Kantarou called quietly, pain stealing more of his breath with every passing second. Not for help. Never for help. He just wanted the tengu beside him now, so that he'd feel strong. So that he'd have the courage to force his way past the malevolent presence tearing at his body. But he was tired and dizzy and his legs soon gave out leaving him sprawled on the floor not far from the motionless form of the maid. The presence wrapped itself tightly around him now, seemingly trying to replace his life with its death. Kantarou took one last gasp of air before he lost to its intensity, and found himself drowned in a world of red and black.

* * *

The door exploded inwards in a flash of lightning.

"Kantarou!" Haruka called wildly, hastily stepping over the remnants of the door frame. He held his staff in front of him, poised to attack.

"Kantarou!" he called again, peering through the thin haze of smoke. He soon spotted his master lying on his side on the floor. He was surrounded by a strange crimson aura. Haruka growled irritably. He had no mind to calm aggravated souls like Kantarou did, and he had no words to dispel it. He gripped his staff and aimed it carefully so that the lightening skimmed barely inches from Kantarou's form, but ripped through the demonic aura. It made no sound as it dissipated in the face of the lightning's touch. Sensing the presence recede back into the walls, Haruka threw down his staff and ran over to where Kantarou lay. He pulled him up into his arms and shook him.

"Stupid Master! Open your eyes!" he demanded. Kantarou lay still. Haruka put a hand on his pale face. It was cold to the touch. "Oi!" he tried, patting Kantarou lightly on the cheek. Haruka frowned and leaned down, putting his ear to Kantarou's chest. He was barely breathing, but his pulse was strong; the blood pumping furiously through his veins in an attempt to dispel the cold touch of the demon. Haruka leaned back and scooped his master up into his arms. He really was getting very tired of always carrying his master around, but he had the uncomfortable notion that the room was watching him. He certainly didn't want to stay there any longer than he had to.

"Why didn't you wait for me," he murmured to the unmoving Kantarou in his arms. Picking up his staff with some difficulty, he backed steadily out of the room. Sudou stood in the ruined doorway looking in shock at Haruka.

"Get the maid, you idiot!" Haruka said. Horrified, Sudou pointed towards the room.

"You want me to go in there?" He shook his head. "It's dangerous!"

"The demon has gone," Haruka lied. "It's fine." Sudou cast the tengu a disbelieving look, but went over to the maid anyway. She was beginning to stir as he knelt down beside her.

"Saori, let me help you." Sudou took her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. Haruka watched in interest as he led the unsteady woman hurriedly out of the room.

"Let's go downstairs," Sudou said. "Away from here." He looked back towards the room with a frown, then made his way down the stairs towards the front room, the maid hanging dazedly onto his arm. Haruka followed cautiously, wary of both the stairs and Sudou.

In the hearth room, where he and Kantarou had sat just minutes before drinking tea, Haruka laid his unconscious master down. The maid sat against the back wall, eyes fixed on nothing with a look of terror set on her face. Sudou joined Haruka in sitting beside Kantarou.

"Is he alright?" Sudou asked, putting a hand against the novelist's cheek. "He's very pale." Haruka shifted irritably.

"He's always pale," he said, pulling Kantarou up onto his lap and away from Sudou's touch. Haruka shook him again.

"Wake up, Kantarou." There was a moment of silence before Kantarou groaned softly and brought his hands up to rest protectively at his chest.

"Haruka?" Kantarou opened his eyes and looked up at the tengu. He smiled in relief and giggled. "I thought that demon was going to kill me!" Haruka snorted.

"It would have done." He helped Kantarou sit up. "I told you to wait," he said.

"Sorry," Kantarou replied a little breathlessly. "There was no time."

"No time for what?" Haruka asked in an almost accusatory tone. Kantarou shook his head.

"I'll explain later," he said, shakily pushing himself up off the floor. "Right now we need to get to Daiki." Sudou looked up in surprise.

"Daiki..." His eyes were wild with fear.

"What is it, Sudou-san?" Kantarou asked. Haruka stood beside his master protectively, glaring mistrustfully at the other man.

"Just before that scream," he began, averting his eyes. "Suzuki-san's brother telephoned..." His voice trailed off for a moment. "He said... Daiki is dead..."

tbc


	9. The Next In Line

Continued thanks to all the readers. I have really enjoyed writing this fic, my longest by far to date,and hope you all are too! Thankyou for all the kind reviews. Encouragment and/or criticism is always welcome and appreciated.

Much love to my usual beloved beta cienna, and to gnine for her encouragment to continue writing. I would also like to thank my strict-arse English teacher who taught me...oooh about10 years ago now...whose writing advice is finally finding use. Let that be a lesson to us all! Listen to teachers, because one day you might find they actually said something useful.

Tactics, sadly, is not mine.

* * *

**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter IX. The Next In Line

_Dreams are discussed and Fate is denied._

Kantarou awoke with a start, the voice from his nightmare still ringing in his ears, malicious and scathing. It was the voice of a demon. His chest felt tight and there was pain there, as though the demon had followed him into the waking world. He was breathing hard still and covered in sweat, making him feel dizzy and cold. Kantarou shivered and pulled the blankets around himself, closing his eyes tightly against the memory of the dream and concentrating on regaining some composure. But in the darkness behind his eyelids the images only became clearer and more focused. Kantarou rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked around the room; his room, and the familiarity of it made his feel better. Even in the dullness of a cold, rainy afternoon it felt comfortable. And safe.

Kantarou felt a sudden desire to seek out Haruka. He wondered whether it was because he always felt stronger and less afraid in the presence of his tengu. Or whether it was because he believed the dream, and really did not have long to live. The thought sent a chill down his spine and he wrapped the blankets even tighter around himself in an attempt to stave off the world, and his fear, which lay like tar in his lungs. He did not really know how he felt about his own mortality, but he did know he wasn't particularly keen on the idea of dying any time soon. Particularly not now that he had found Haruka.

Through the cold quiet of his room and his thoughts, Kantarou heard raised voices downstairs. Someone was crying. Haruka's voice, deep and calm, cut through the noise. Then there was shuffling and the sound of a door being slid gently closed. He listened closely for a time, trying to discern who the visitor might be and what they were talking about, but the voices were too quiet now. Still, he had the feeling he should hear the conversation going on downstairs, so Kantarou got up and pulled a thick hapi over his yukata before making his way carefully down the stairs, noting with amusement how paranoid he had become about staircases lately.

Approaching the closed room Kantarou could hear the sound of sobbing again. And there was a man's voice that he did not recognize. He was saying something about Daiki. Kantarou stood before the door, wondering why Haruka or Youko had not called him down. It certainly sounded like the visitors had brought important news. He frowned. It was probably Youko. She could be so over-protective at times. As soon as she heard what had happened at the Suzuki house, she had sent Kantarou straight off to bed to rest. And he wasn't even sure why he had let her. He put a hand to his head. No fever. He was fine. But it was really starting to get to him how... _weak_ he had been lately; collapsing all over the place like some timid damsel in distress. It just wasn't like him. He should have been able to exorcise that demonic ghost without so much melodrama. Kantarou smiled despite himself; maybe he had just grown to like Haruka carrying him around all the time. Still, whatever was wrong and however imminent his death might be, this was his house and his business. Making his decision, he gently pushed the door aside.

"Good Afternoon..." he began in greeting, immediately recognizing Suzuki-san. A man he did not recognize sat stiffly next to her. Suzuki-san looked at him with utter horror.

"Oh, Ichinomiya-sensei!" she cried and threw herself at his legs, tightly gripping the material of his yukata and wailing loudly. Kantarou looked to Haruka for some indication of what was going on, but the tengu just looked back at him in mild surprise and shrugged.

"Um... Suzuki-san..." Youko said, laying her hands soothingly on the distraught woman's shoulders, gently trying to pry her away from Kantarou. The woman's sobs subsided slightly, but she seemed resolved to not let go.

"Oh, Ichinomiya-sensei! I'm so sorry I got you involved..." she cried miserably.

"Let go of the man, Kuumi." The stranger spoke, his voice deep and confident. Suzuki-san whimpered slightly but released Kantarou's legs and mumbled an apology. Youko continued to pat her comfortingly.

"Kan-chan, this is Suzuki-san's brother," she explained. The man nodded in greeting.

"Ishi Touya. You have been investigating for Kuumi?" Kantarou bowed and went to sit down beside Haruka, as far from Suzuki-san as he could without being rude.

"Yes," Kantarou replied, unsure what to say. He was almost certain now he knew the cause of the deaths, but was loathed to bring it up.

"I don't know what's going on," Ishi Touya stated, eyeing Kantarou suspiciously. "But from the look on your face I would wager you do." Suzuki-san's sobs stopped abruptly and she gasped.

"You...you know?" she stammered. Kantarou nodded slowly.

"You should not have hired me if you did not want me to find out," he said. The woman sagged visibly.

"So it's her then. I thought it might be. Maybe we deserve it after all." Kantarou shook his head.

"But why did you send Daiki to her shrine if you thought it was her?" he asked.

"I didn't want to believe it," she replied miserably.

"What _is_ going on?" Ishi Touya demanded, folding his arms in annoyance.

"It's Kirara. We killed her and now she wants our lives," Suzuki-san sobbed. Ishi Touya's eyes widened in shock.

"The demon... it killed her, not you!" he insisted. His eyes momentarily flashed towards Kantarou. "But then why...?" Suzuki-san shook her head.

"No. We did. We thought it best..." She broke down into pitiful sobs, burying her face in her hands.

"I saw it," Kantarou said. "The black paint covers what they did."

"They murdered... their daughter?" Haruka spoke for the first time.

"They could not exorcise the demon because she lived in it. It was the room, and the house, and they didn't know it. So they killed her and now the demon and her ghost are one. And much more powerful than before." Kantarou closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the demon's touch, burning bloodlust filled with the daughter's need for revenge. But there was something else. Something hidden. It felt like control... like purpose.

"Kantarou?" Haruka was looking at him oddly. Kantarou looked over at Suzuki-san.

"There is something else," he said. She stared at him, eyes red and inflamed from crying.

"There is..." She choked. "You know? You've seen it?" Kantarou frowned, feeling an oddly familiar fear creeping into his stomach.

"I think it's..." He trailed off, not knowing what he meant to say.

"I don't understand why," Suzuki-san was saying, her eyes filled with despair. There was pity there too, and sorrow, forcing him to realize what he already knew.

"Enough with all the riddles!" Haruka threw up his arms in frustration and looked between Kantarou and Suzuki-san. "What is it!"

"The reason we came," Ishi Touya said, his tone mournful. "Kuumi had another dream." Youko gasped.

"Someone else is going to die?" she asked, her voice quivering. Suzuki-san nodded.

"That demon," she spat. "So soon after Daiki..." Haruka narrowed his eyes, realizing where this was going.

"It won't happen," he said simply.

"Haruka..." Kantarou smiled sadly. "I saw it too." The tengu turned indignantly to face his master.

"It won't happen!" he declared, looking at Kantarou as though he were an idiot to even _think_ such a thing. "You will _not_ die. I won't let you."

"Haruka..." Kantarou didn't really know how to respond, just gaped at the tengu in astonishment.

"Wait." Youko moved over to sit closer to Kantarou, distress visible on her face. "The dreams... Suzuki-san had another one and in it you... you _died_." She grasped Kantarou's sleeve. "That can't be. Why? If it wants revenge then why you?"

"Youko." Kantarou put his hand over Youko's, trying to appear calm even though he felt sick at the memory of the dream. But there was no denying it. "I don't know. But I'm sure Suzuki-san and I saw the same dream. And I suspect it's because the house... it possesses me now too."

tbc


	10. A More Compelling Argument

Um yes, there is some love here. So shoot me. I couldn't resist any longer. And yes, melodrama really _is_ my new middle name.

Continued beta love to Cienna and to any readers sticking with the story. Comments and criticism always welcome.

If Tactics was mine, Haruka and Kantarou would have their clothes off a whole lot more.

* * *

**The House of Warm Rain**

Chapter X. A More Compelling Argument

_Haruka makes Kantarou an offer he can't refuse._

"I just don't understand it," Haruka announced, turning his gaze towards Kantarou. The white-haired man sat thoughtfully by the paper doors, looking out onto the garden. There was no response, and a few moments passed in weary silence before he turned half-closed eyes towards the tengu.

"Hm?" Despite the dim light of the room, Haruka could see Kantarou was smiling somberly at him. Haruka didn't like it.

"Ever since that Suzuki woman and her brother left you've been sitting there with that stupid look plastered on your face." He frowned moodily, not quite sure why this was annoying him so much. Haruka saw Kantarou's smile falter momentarily before his master turned away again.

"It's rare for you to say something like that," Kantarou said thoughtfully. "You sound worried."

"I'm not worried," Haruka stated. Kantarou made no reply, just continued staring blankly out into the darkness, listening to the endless rain. Haruka fidgeted uncomfortably; the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts and uncertainty. He had never realized how used to Kantarou's inane chatter he had become until it was no longer there, leaving them with nothing but cool night air between them. Haruka could not stand it anymore.

"It's late now. Youko went to bed hours ago." Kantarou nodded but still said nothing. There was more silence. A light breeze blew into the room, causing Kantarou's silver-white hair to be blown back. Haruka watched it drowsily, sleep threatening to overtake him, and heard Kantarou sigh heavily. But there was only so much of this Haruka could take, and he refused to sleep until he had made his opinion clear to the human. Ever since Kantarou had taken this job, there had been nothing but trouble. And Kantarou was a mess. Even if the man wouldn't admit it to himself, Haruka saw it, and he was sure Youko did too. All through dinner she had been watching every bite Kantarou took. He was sure there would have been an argument if he hadn't eaten every single mouthful. Kantarou must have known it too. But then, Youko's frowns and angry glares were not exactly subtle. It was amazing, Haruka thought, how such a lazy, trouble-inspiring, annoying, manipulative human could inspire such loyalty from a youkai. And she was not the only one.

Kantarou yawned widely then laid his head against the side of the door. It didn't seem like he had any intention of moving. Haruka should have left him alone right then to wallow in whatever it was he was wallowing in. He should have not cared whether his stupid master made himself sick again. But Youko had only gone to bed because Haruka had told her he would stay up and keep an eye on Kantarou. And, just like back at that house, he couldn't leave him alone.

"What is wrong with you?" Haruka asked. Kantarou jumped at the sudden question, and turned fully towards the tengu.

"Nothing is wrong, Haruka," he replied. And there was that smile again.

"Liar." Haruka crossed his arms and glared at his master. If anything, Kantarou's smile actually grew. He laughed softly.

"I suppose you're right. But it doesn't matter…"

"You're not going to die," Haruka interrupted. Kantarou sighed again and shook his head slowly.

"Haruka," he began, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. "I don't know what to think about that, but I know that...something is going to happen." He paused and looked the tengu in the eye, trying to gauge his response. But Haruka was giving nothing away, just continued to stare blankly at him. All night he had been thinking; what to say, what to do, with the dream hanging over him like a dark cloud. He was sure that whatever else might happen, he did not want to die with regret. So Kantarou pressed on, somehow convinced that if he didn't say this now he never would. "When I woke up from that dream, I could only think of finding you. I thought it was because I would feel safer with you, and I suppose that's true, but the truth is…" Kantarou paused again, certain now that he was about to make a complete fool of himself. "The truth is that I just wanted to spend whatever time I had left with you…" Haruka almost growled in irritation.

"How many times must I say it, Kantarou? You are _not_ going to die." Kantarou shook his head again, getting the feeling that Haruka was missing the point.

"That's not exactly true, Haruka," he said. Kantarou sat thinking for a moment; the conversation was too vague. The one thing Kantarou wanted now was to know that Haruka cared about him. Not because he was his master, and the end of his life would mean the end of Haruka's, but because he was Ichinomiya Kantarou. Because Haruka liked who Ichinomiya Kantarou was. It was somewhat perverse, Kantarou thought, that he should be so obsessed with this one thing when he was facing mortal peril. But really, it made perfect sense. Most of his life he had wanted to meet Haruka. And at the end of it, he wanted to know he had made an impression.

"In any case," he said finally, miserably. "I have to go back to that house." Haruka sat dumfounded, unable to believe Kantarou could be so _stupid_. "I have to. It's not like I want to, but I have to do something."

"I can't believe you…" Haruka managed to say.

"Nothing can be settled unless I try and talk to her."

"You promised Youko you wouldn't go back there," Haruka argued.

"I didn't promise her anything. I said I'd do my best, and I've been thinking…"

"When you think it only leads to trouble." Haruka was becoming increasingly irritated by Kantarou's continued obstinacy. Kantarou stood up and glared at Haruka, folding his arms defensively, irritated at the way the conversation was going.

"I tell you that and that's all you can say?" He went on more quietly; "I can't just sit around and leave that girl's soul like that."

"Why do you always care so much? She only wants to kill you!"

"I don't think she does. And I know if I can talk to her I can…" Haruka threw his arms up in agitation.

"You can what? Make her stop? It's not just her, Kantarou! She's part of a demon that's been killing humans for decades. You think you can stop that?" Haruka was aware his voice was low and threatening now, but he didn't think there was any other way to make Kantarou listen. To his mind, the human had a bad habit of not listening to sound advice.

"I'm not going to hide, Haruka. I can stop her!" Kantarou argued, his voice trembling slightly in annoyance. Haruka growled.

"You can't stop every demon you come across, Kantarou."

"I can!"

"You couldn't stop the one that gave you that scar!" A cold silence fell over the room and Haruka got the distinct impression he should not have said that. Kantarou stared at him, his eyes indignant, angry and perhaps a little hurt. Then he looked away and made for the closed door, concluding that his staying would only make matters worse. And still he had no answer. Without thinking, Haruka grabbed Kantarou's arm as he strode past. He met his furious red eyes.

"I won't let you die," was all he could think to say. Kantarou relaxed a little in his grasp, anger and frustration turning more to sadness and resignation.

"I have to go," he said, more quietly now. Haruka turned so he was fully facing Kantarou and pulled his human master closer, aware of the affect he had on Kantarou more acutely than the way Youko had shown he affected women.

"Don't go." It was more like a question than an order or a request, but so sincere that Kantarou could do nothing but smile at Haruka. It was so rare to see that glint of hardened resolve in his eyes, and Kantarou felt pleased that it was directed at him. And the distance. They were so close now that Kantarou could feel Haruka's breath on his face.

"I must do something, Haruka." Kantarou laid his hand over the one still grasping his arm. Then he threw Haruka a wide grin. "But if you're there then I'll be safe, right?" Haruka watched Kantarou's face for a moment; his eyes looking confidently up at him, the anger and sadness now gone. Kantarou looked at him with such complete trust.

"What's wrong Haruka?" he asked, his features turning curious, uncertain. He must have noticed, Haruka thought, how close they were. And even though Haruka was grasping his arm so tightly it must hurt, Kantarou made no complaint. Kantarou took his hand from Haruka's and laid it on the tengu's other arm. It was oddly exhilarating, this power he had over his own master. But it was more than that too; possessiveness, fear, irritation and a kind of _need_ all from just taking Kantarou's arm.

"Haruka?" Kantarou asked again. Then Haruka's lips were on Kantarou's, just for a moment, before he realized what he was doing and pulled back. Kantarou's eyes were wide with surprise and his cheeks burned red, but there was no fear there. Instead, he gripped Haruka's arm gently and pulled him back into another brief kiss, like a question asking if this was all real.

"This is why…?" Kantarou breathed. Haruka released his hold on Kantarou and moved his hand to brush away the hair falling over Kantarou's face.

"Mm," he replied non-committally, and let his hand fall to hold the back of Kantarou's neck. He was so human, Haruka thought. Frail and uncertain. No youkai should get involved with them. They were cruel and meaningless creatures. Only Kantarou wasn't, and Haruka had learned long ago that it was useless to ignore their kind. He leaned in closer and spoke into Kantarou's ear.

"Don't go," he repeated. Like this, Haruka thought, Kantarou would listen to him. And like this, he would not lose him. Tentatively, Kantarou raised his arms to grasp Haruka's shoulders.

"I can't sit and do nothing, Haruka," he said softly.

"I'll go." Haruka put his free arm around Kantarou's waist.

"It would be better with both of us," Kantarou suggested, laying his head on Haruka's shoulder so that his face pressed gently against the tengu's neck.

"I'm strong. It'll be fine. I won't kill her." The feel of Kantarou's mouth against his skin made Haruka's heart beat wildly and want nothing more than to draw the human even closer.

"You promise?" Kantarou asked, aware of the quickened pace of his own breath and of Haruka's heart, its sound pulsing from his long neck. If it was assurance that Haruka felt at least _something_ for him he sought, then Kantarou had certainly had it.

"If you don't believe me, you can order it," Haruka said. Haruka could feel Kantarou smile against his skin.

"I don't want to do that," he said. He raised his head from Haruka's shoulder, then their mouths were together again, and even though Kantarou felt that he had lost the argument somehow, he knew he had won something far better.

tbc


	11. An Attempt At Life

Usual disclaimers and thanks.

As the story moves towards its end, the chapters seem to be growing in length. Hm.I must be getting a bit over-excited.

* * *

**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter XI. An Attempt at Life

_In which many things are possessed._

It was all so sudden. The feel of Haruka's body beside him, so close he could hear him breathing, the tengu's long arm stretched lazily over his waist. Waking to see this, it was all so new and strange and Kantarou was not sure it was a good thing. He had power over Haruka, and now Haruka held him too. But wasn't this what he had wanted all along? For Haruka to be close beside him? And this was the closest anyone had ever been before. But was he even himself right now? Sickness, exhaustion and death had plagued him relentlessly these past few days. Even in sleep that dark feeling was there, burning prophecies of his own demise into his unconscious mind. It was disconcerting to say the least. Still, even before all this, Kantarou had looked to Haruka with a longing deeper than a desire for friendship, or even trust. And now here they were, where Kantarou thought he wanted to be. Here he could touch Haruka, and the tengu wouldn't flinch away. Haruka had reached out to him, after all. The thought made Kantarou frown. It had been easy, on reflection, for the tengu to get his way, but Haruka was not him. Kantarou was sure Haruka would not do something like that just to win an argument, as he himself might have done. Kantarou reached up and touched a lock of Haruka's dark hair on the pillow beside him. It was soft, almost as soft as the look on Haruka's face; content and comfortable. Tengu, Kantarou thought, really were so very pure, almost innocent. It seemed then as though Haruka wanted to be there too, by the side of his so-called master.

Kantarou looked more closely at the hair he held and chuckled to himself. Split ends. Haruka could be very vain, and this would make for a perfect thing to tease him about. Haruka stirred at the sound.

"What are you laughing at?" he mumbled, opening one bleary eye.

"Nothing," Kantarou replied, far too cheerfully. Haruka pulled Kantarou into a close embrace and closed his eyes again, yawning widely.

"Go back to sleep, Kantarou." Kantarou squirmed in Haruka's arms.

"You're squashing me, Haruka."

"Ah, sorry," Haruka apologized, still only half awake, and loosened his arms.

"Haruka?" The tengu murmured something unintelligible in reply. "Haruka? You're dribbling on my pillow." Haruka opened his eyes fully at that and stared at his master in disbelief.

"I am not," he retorted.

"You are, now stop dribbling and get up," Kantarou ordered jokingly, laughing at Haruka's disgruntled face. "I don't know what Youko-chan will say if she sees us like this!" Haruka rubbed his eyes.

"Same thing she did last time, I suppose."

"Eh?" Kantarou sat up in surprise. "When did she…oh." Kantarou lay back down. "I didn't know she saw that."

"Of course she did," Haruka said, his arm returning to its former position over Kantarou. "She checked on you all the time."

"What did she say?" Kantarou asked, a little concerned. "When she saw us?" Haruka smirked.

"Something like, "About time." I wasn't really sure because she didn't seem to be able to stop giggling." Kantarou smiled and nodded. He'd have to cook dinner or something for Youko in thanks, he thought. Not that he was any good at cooking, so maybe buying her dinner would be a better idea.

Kantarou shivered then as he felt Haruka's hand brush lazily up his back. The tengu was looking at him curiously, watching his reaction. His breath hitched as Haruka ran his thumb down Kantarou's spine looking decidedly pleased with himself.

"I think it is too," Haruka said, then leaned down to kiss Kantarou sloppily. Kantarou placed his hands against the other man's chest and pushed him gently away, laughing affectionately.

"Haruka! You're still half asleep!" Kantarou complained. Frowning slightly, Haruka humphed to show his displeasure at the rebuke, but continued to gaze at Kantarou.

"Haruka?" Kantarou asked, more serious now.

"What?" Kantarou averted his eyes and blushed.

"Sorry I…fell asleep didn't I?" There was silence for a moment before Haruka shrugged.

"You were tired." There was silence again, then Haruka closed his eyes. "There is time," he said, his lips curling into something of a grin, "For other things…" Kantarou did not think he had ever seen Haruka look quite so lascivious before and he blushed more deeply, thankful that the tengu had chosen that moment to close his eyes.

"Haruka..." Kantarou asked again. "Then, last night… you didn't just…kiss me…so I wouldn't go back to the house?" Haruka studied Kantarou's face. It was true in essence that had been exactly why he had done it. But it wasn't like he hadn't wanted to. Or thought about those things before. Or wasn't going to want to do them again.

"Not just because of that," Haruka admitted. "I wouldn't do that." Kantarou nodded again and sighed, half in relief, half in weariness.

"I'll be glad when this is over," he said, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket further up over himself. Haruka watched him lay there for a moment before sitting up.

"Fine. I'll go now." Kantarou's eyes snapped open and he grabbed Haruka's arm.

"I didn't mean it like that, Haruka…" he protested. Haruka laid a hand on his head and almost-smiled.

"I know."

* * *

Haruka hated flying in the rain. There was no way to avoid getting soaked to the skin, and no way to stave off the cold chill of water-saturated air and clothes. Not to mention it messed up the feathers of his wings. Haruka smiled to himself, remembering Kantarou's delicate touch as the human had smoothed his feathers down only days before. _That_ warmed him a little. He hoped he would get the same treatment when he returned home this time.

Below him, Haruka noticed the now familiar street which led to the Suzuki house. He really didn't want to go back there. Even without having to worry about Kantarou the house was disturbing; the very wood it was built from felt malicious and blood-stained. And he did not trust that maid or Sudou. Haruka could not help but feel they were somehow involved in all this. Maybe it was the strange looks they kept giving each other, or the convenient way Sudou had stopped him helping Kantarou. Whatever it was, they had been in that house a long time, so who knew what it had done to them. Haruka seriously considered just throwing lightening at the house from above, those two who were likely inside and Kantarou's wishes be damned. Or maybe burning the place to the ground. That would be even more effective. But he doubted the local population would approve, and knew that Kantarou would be furious. That human never seemed to want to do anything the easy way.

He could see the house now, dark and ominous looking in the grey light of the rain clouds. And there was something else. A feeling, like Shinto magic and the harassed souls of the unrestful dead. The aura of death he had felt before at the house, but the magic was new. It was the magic he hated. Haruka was sure that Sudou had something to do with this; he just knew that human could not be trusted.

With the rain starting to come down in ever more powerful sheets, Haruka came to a difficult landing at the side of the house. Wipingwater from his eyes, he silently summoned his staff and crept through the sodden garden towards the back of the house. Originally, he had intended to knock on the front door, demand entrance, fry the room and go home, but Haruka got the distinct impression that was not going to be possible. It was odd, he thought, that neither he nor Kantarou had sensed any kind of magic in the house before. Kantarou was usually very aware of such things, though of course his condition of latemight explain how he had not noticed. And Haruka had been so focused on Kantarou that he had paid attention to little else. But now, out in the cold rain, focused on nothing but the house, the spiritual power and the presence of demons and death burned his senses.

Rounding the corner of the house, Haruka could hear the faint sound of voices. The door to the kitchen was open slightly and he approached it cautiously, stepping as lightly as possible through the puddles of rain collected around the house's exterior. He felt cold water beginning to seep into his shoes. Inside, there was a crash, as though something had been dropped on the wooden floor, then the sound of footfalls running. Haruka carefully peered through the opening of the door, but there was no one there. Pushing the door silently aside, he stepped into the kitchen.On first inspection everythingseemed normal. Out of the rain now, Haruka could hear the voices much more clearly. He was certain it was Sudou and the maid, and they sounded as though they were havingan argument.

Harukastepped up onto wooden floor, not bothering to remove his shoes. He gripped his staff tightly and crept noiselessly out of the kitchen into the corridor, straining his ears to hear the continuing quarrel. The sense of demons and death grew stronger.

"Sudou-san..." The maid was crying, her voice high-pitched and fearful. "Why does she want Ichinomiya-san too? He has nothing to do with this." Hearing Kantarou's name, Haruka stopped and listened, aware now that the two humans were situated in a room to his left. They were close. Sudou's reply was short and irritable.

"It's none of your concern."

"But he's..." she tried to argue. Sudou cut her off shortly.

"I told you not to get too attached to him."

"I didn't! It's just..."

"This was part of the agreement. If you want to be rich then stop arguing." The maid was sobbing loudly now.

"That's not why I agreed to this!" Sudou growled and said something so low Haruka could not understand it, but the maid gasped and gave no further argument. There was shuffling, then Sudou began a low chant. Haruka recognized it immediately and found anger rising dangerously within himself. He was summoning a demon, and Haruka sensed it, crawling through the walls of the house, down towards Sudou's chants. The very air itself felt chilled by the presence, but Haruka remained still and checked his anger, listening closely. An unknown voice spoke.

"It is done. She is no longer with us." It was deep, spiteful, and irritated. Without a doubt, it was the voice of the demon.

"And Ichinomiya Kantarou?" Sudou asked, cautious but unafraid. There was a long pause. Haruka's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"He is not with us." A pause, and Haruka decided he did not like what he was hearing. "Yet," the demon concluded, then the presence was retreating back upstairs.

Haruka could take it no more. He seriously hoped Sudou had not done what he suspected, or Kantarou wouldwould soon be shouting at him forkilling a human. Growling audibly, he ripped the door and part of the wall away with his lightening. The maid screamed and Sudou drew back in terror, then turned and made to run. Haruka leapt forward and grabbed the man by the neck of his kimono with his free hand. He spun Sudou around to face him, eyes paling and teeth and claws emerging.

"Wha...what are you?" Sudou stammered, desperately attempting to pull away from Haruka. The maid cowered on the floor and covered her face with her hands.

"You will tell me what you have done," Haruka demanded. Sudou's face hardened into a defiant scowl and he threw his fist at Haruka's face. Seeing this, Haruka growled and threw Sudou away into the wall. The man hit the wall hard and fell slumped against it, groaning in pain and trying to stand up. Haruka pointed his staff at Sudou and repeated his question.

"What have you done to Kantarou?" Sudou glared at the tengu and said nothing. Enraged, Haruka released his lightening, the bolt hitting the wall centimetres from Sudou's head. The explosion cast thick dust into the air and left the faint smell of singed wood and hair. Sudou sat, frozen in shock.

"What have you DONE!" Haruka shouted, raising his staff again.

"Please stop..." The maid begged, cowering at his feet. "I'll tell you, just don't hurt Sudou-san!" Haruka turned on her, eyes narrowed in silent demand.

"Ichinomiya-san...I didn't want to, but the demon demanded him," she sobbed. "At first it was just the family, but then he came here and the demon wanted him."

"Just tell me what it wants," Haruka said coldly. She nodded.

"It's Kirara. She wanted revenge, and we wanted..." she trailed off, shame on her face.

"What?" Haruka asked. But it was Sudou who answered.

"Their money," he said plainly. "After they are all dead, I get the money. Kirara was just looking for a way to get revenge. _They_ killed her." Haruka turned to him.

"Then what about Kantarou? What does he have to do with that?"

"Kirara wants to live. And he presented himself as the perfect receptacle." Haruka's eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" he hissed.

"He has a strong spiritual sense. I'm sure you know that. So he can be possessed more...successfully. And he was weak when he came here." Sudou stood up shakily and stared brushing himself down.

"And with Kirara's soul in his body, his was to be trapped here. The demon thought it would make him stronger." There was an edge of smugness in the man's voice that Haruka did not like at all. Then like a flash of his own lightening he understood what it meant, and with an immense cry of rage, Haruka flung open the room's doors, drew out his wings, and threw himself into flight.

tbc


	12. An Attempt At Death

Usual thanks and disclaimers.

Please excuse the continuing over-use of extreme melodrama. It's just too fun, and essential as we near the end.

Comments and the like appreciated, as always.**

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**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter XII. An Attempt At Death

_Kantarou discovers things are not as they were._

Even though the futon was still warm where Haruka had lain only minutes before, Kantarou felt a cold chill race down his spine. He rolled over into the warmer space and closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep until Haruka returned.

Outside the rain was falling hard again, but now it was comforting rather than oppressive and Kantarou smiled broadly into his pillow, remembering Haruka's soft kisses the night before. When this was all over, he thought, he would take them all to an onsen or something. That was, of course, if Suzuki-san paid them well. Still, they hadn't been in ages and they all needed the rest. Although he would never admit it, Kantarou felt completely drained from all the misadventures of the past week and at that moment probably didn't even have the strength to exorcise even the weakest of youkai.

He imagined the hot water around him, easing his aching limbs, cold rain falling on his head and shoulders, massaging away memories of that room and those eyes. And Haruka would be next to him, whining about the temperature and how he hated onsen. Haruka would call him annoying and stupid and lazy but Kantarou wouldn't mind because he would know that Haruka meant it in a nice way. Then they would go back to their room and Kantarou would pat his tengu apologetically and maybe find ways to make him feel better…

Kantarou buried his face deep in the pillow to hide his lascivious thoughts from the world. It was early still, and Youko might come in any minute to turf him out of bed. At least she wouldn't find Haruka in his bed again. Burying himself deeper into the covers, Kantarou wondered what the tengu was doing now. The demon was strong; he had felt that easily enough. In the darkness of his closed eyes Kantarou saw it again; that room, walls red, walls black and eyes everywhere, watching him hungrily. It was like in his dream, he remembered. He was lying in bed in the dream too, when the demon with red wings came for him. The demon had killed him easily in the dream. Kantarou had been weak and alone. But it was not like that now, Kantarou thought, trying to push away the uncomfortable feelings of familiarity. Because Haruka would come back and be beside him again. Except he wasn't here now.

Kantarou looked up and twisted around. For one terrifying moment he had been certain the demon would be standing there beside his futon, waiting for him. But there was nothing there. Still, Kantarou felt uneasy. He turned over and sat up, looking warily around the room. He felt something. It was vague and undefined, but definitely there. That feeling, deep in his stomach, churned and grew as he sat in silence on the futon. The world felt wrong, and Kantarou found himself hoping Haruka was all right. The demon was strong, and added to it was the fury of innumerable aggravated souls. Kantarou, for the first time, wondered if Haruka would really be strong enough to just simply exorcise them all. It was strange, but Kantarou couldn't imagine why he had thought it would be so easy. Now it was like he was waking up from delirious sleep, unsure of what he had said and done. But he knew he had sent Haruka to that house.

Leaping out of bed, Kantarou dressed furiously, cursing his own weakness. He had been manipulated and he knew it. Ever since that dream…no, even before that. Since the first time he entered that room, the demon had been there with him. But he had not seen it. He cursed again, the typing of the knot of his hakama taking too long. The only thing he could think of was getting to Haruka, promise or no. Kantarou needed to know what the demon wanted, and this was the only way.

Pulling a jacket on, Kantarou was half-way to the door of his room when a sudden flash of pain ripped through his head. He stumbled, gripping his face and crying out in agony. For what seemed like forever he couldn't see anything but light burning behind his eyelids. There were voices, hateful, gleeful, and so _loud_. Kantarou tried not to listen to them. He covered his ears tightly, but they only seemed to get louder. Then he knew the demon was there with them. But the girl, the daughter, Kirara was not. She was there. Not in his dream. Not in his room. But behind his own eyes, clawing at his own mind. It hurt, and his instincts told him to stop fighting the voices, but Kantarou knew to do that was to give up his very soul. Kirara, in his mind, raged against him. Kantarou thought of Haruka. He could not die. To do so was to kill the one most precious to him. He could see now what it was that she wanted; his body, so she could live again.

When Kantarou opened his eyes, he knew they were not his own. The pain was still there in his head, but it was lesser now. It was not just his mind anymore. But the voices in his ears still echoed. They wanted him, the demon wanted him, but Kantarou would not give up his body. The demon whispered promises and possibilities; "Haruka will be safe," it said, "You will never feel pain again," it said. Lies! Lies! Kantarou thought, falling to his knees that were no longer just _his_ knees. The demon showed him Haruka; "This is what I'll do," it said, and killed him over and over, the image surreally overlaid with the sight of his room. Haruka is strong, Kantarou thought, Kantarou told the demon, Kantarou tried to convince himself.

Suddenly, the door was flung open and Youko ran in, crying Kantarou's name. He couldn't so much as hear it as see it. She knelt down in front of him and took his shoulders, calling his name, asking what was wrong. Kantarou wanted to tell her to run away, to get away from him, but his mouth was no longer his own and he found he did not have the strength to force speech from his body. The demon was still there, pulling him away, and it took all his strength just to remain in his own mind.

"Kan-chan! Please talk to me! What's wrong?" Youko looked panicked and terrified. He felt the muscles in his face form a smile, but was sure he had not done that, then his arms reached out and took Youko by the throat. His hands tightened and Youko coughed and tried desperately to pry them off. "I'll kill her," the Kirara in his head told him. "Give up this body or I'll kill her." Kantarou could not. He could not give up Haruka, and he could not hand the power of the Demon-eating tengu over to anyone. Even so, he could not allow Youko to die either, so with all the will he could summon he focused on his hands. Slowly, slowly they loosened their grasp.

"Run," Kantarou ground out. He drew his hands back and sat, frozen, staring at Youko as Kirara fought to regain control. Tears fell down her pale face.

"Kan-chan…" she sobbed, but made no move to leave. For once, Kantarou was thankful for the name bond.

"Youko," he said deliberately. "Run away from me. Now." Youko started to draw away from him slowly. She was fighting the order, he could tell, but there was nothing she could do. When she reached the door, she took one last look back before disappearing out onto the corridor. Kantarou would have smiled if he could have. Kirara was furious. Kantarou could see her thoughts, just as she his. She was afraid she would not be able to gain control of his body now before it died from the strain. "I will have what I want," she told him again. Before he could stop her, he was on his feet and running down the stairs, heading outside. On the street, Kirara looked wildly around with his eyes, then tore off up the road. He could feel now her all-consuming desire for revenge. If she could not have his body, she would at least have that. "And maybe if we murder them," she thought, "you will be less inclined to keep this life." With every step they ran, he realized, he lost a little more of himself.

tbc


	13. Warm Rain

And so we come to an almost-end. Usual disclaimers and thanks to all who have been following this fic. Comments and criticism always welcome. Some spoilers in this chapter, but I think you'll miss them if you blink.

Now I shall disappear for a while in order to hone my Mad Skillz, and hopefully return with a desire to write the likes of which the universe has never seen. Good summers to all (and sundry).**

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**The House Of Warm Rain**

Chapter XIII. Warm Rain

_Haruka and Kantarou come to something of an end._

In the hazy blue of high summer, Kantarou had always thought it best to do nothing but lounge around in the shade. By doing so, you avoided both getting burnt in the sun and getting too sweaty from moving around. It was too hot to write or study, as the brain became muddled and sleepy in such weather. So there he lay, just inside the paper doors on soft tatami, looking out at the scorched world. It was strange, he thought, how cold he felt, even though he could see the heat shimmering blearily off the wooden veranda. It was cold, and his chest felt tight, as though he was running. Kantarou sat up. There was a feeling in his mind, like he has supposed to be doing something. Like he had forgotten something. Or someone. There were wings and pale eyes turned dark, and the feel of sharp teeth on his own flesh in his memory. He felt it was important to know, like he thought he really should know how he had got here. Perhaps even who he was. Not knowing why, he put his hands together in a gesture of prayer, and words fell from his mouth. Chanting; quiet yet confident, lulling back memory and reality until he could feel rain on his face and pain in his chest. He was running. Looking down, he could see his feet hit the ground and showers of rain splash up onto his already drenched hakama. It was cold in this world.

* * *

Out on the street, Haruka growled in frustration and ran up the nearest street, trying to find some indication of where he was. He looked back down at the soggy piece of paper in his hand, but it still made no sense. Cursing the fool who had come up with Tokyo's insane and incomprehensible method of labeling addresses, Haruka ran randomly down another side-street, listening intently, looking about wildly, looking for any indication of which way Kantarou might have gone. He thought perhaps to stop and ask, but what with the rain there was no one around. And in his present state of mind, it might not be the best idea anyway. Haruka could feel his anger, the side of him that was callous tengu, swelling uncomfortably within him. He had to find Kantarou quickly, or at least, whatever it was Kantarou had become. 

Returning to Kantarou's house in near-panic, Haruka had found Youko cowering beside the kitchen sink.

"Kan-chan tried to kill me," she had said.

"Kan-chan ordered me away," she had said.

"Kan-chan's eyes were cold and cruel," she had cried. She wanted the man she knew back. But at least Haruka knew there was something of his master left, if he had sent Youko away. Nothing could make Kantarou kill, he thought. If the man couldn't even kill some blood-thirsty demon, he certainly couldn't murder those he called his friends.

Youko had then rifled through the piles of paper on Kantarou's desk, mumbling complaints about his lack of organizational skills, about his messiness. She had been crying still, and Haruka had just waited, clueless as to how he could make her stop.

"I'll get him back," was all he could think to say. Youko had stopped for a moment and smiled at him as though that was all she needed to hear, to know that everything would be fine. There it was again; that complete trust that Kantarou had shown him only the night before. The night before when Kantarou was Kantarou, and Haruka had held him and kissed him and wanted him all for himself. Familiar anger rose in his chest.

"There's not much time," he had said, and Youko nodded and returned to searching Kantarou's desk.

So now here he was, with that Suzuki woman's address which Youko had eventually managed to dig out, held firmly in his hand. And it was useless. There was just no _logic_ to the numbering system, leaving Haruka running back and forth, knowing he was in the right area but with no clue which way to go. With each wrong turn he was longer getting to Kantarou. With each passing moment the possibility that the daughter's soul would overcome Kantarou once and for all grew greater, and that was something Haruka could not allow. Though he didn't want to think what he would do if he was too late.

Through the steady pounding of rain, Haruka heard a faint cry. It was a woman's voice, filled with fear. Haruka stopped and listened for a moment, but heard nothing more. Still, it was all he had to go on so he ran in the direction of the scream, straining his hearing for any further sounds. He could hear a man shouting then, and fearful sobs, but they were distorted and dampened by the hiss of hard rain. But the noises were certainly growing louder. He passed one more house, two, three, then he caught site of the wooden plaque by the gate of the fourth; "Ishi". Haruka was sure that was the name of Suzuki's brother. From inside, there was a crashing sound and another cry. Haruka took this as confirmation and stormed into the house, not even bothering to take off his shoes. Bursting unceremoniously into the first room he came to, Haruka could see that Kantarou had not either. And that this was certainly not Kantarou.

Kantarou's body stood in the centre of the room, eyes narrowed and face twisted into an enraged scowl. With both hands, not-Kantarou grasped a sword, which from the looks of it had been taken from the tokonoma. It gleamed menacingly, antique white ivory and high-polished blade pointed unwaveringly at Suzuki Kuumi. She cowered in a corner, weeping uncontrollably behind her brother who stood with his hands raised placatingly, blood dripping from wounds on his arms.

"Kantarou!" Haruka shouted, drawing forth his staff and moving slowly towards his master. "Stop this!" Kantarou turned hideously malicious eyes towards him.

"I'm not him, you fool," not-Kantarou leered, studying the tengu's staff with interest before turning back to Suzuki and her brother. "Stay out of this. It's none of your business."

"Kantarou is my... Kantarou wouldn't kill, and I know he's still in there," Haruka said flatly. And he wouldn't let anyone take him away. Kantarou was his.

"How do you intend to stop me, tengu?" not-Kantarou asked. Haruka flinched; it was Kantarou's voice but was so unlike Kantarou that Haruka wondered if there really _was _anything left of his master. Anger rose within him at the thought and he grasped his staff tightly. He would use it if he had to. Kantarou would not begrudge him for it.

"Anyway I can," he said. Not-Kantarou's eyes narrowed further, then he was grinning. The sword in his hand lowered slightly and he turned back to meet Haruka's gaze.

"But why would you want to?" he asked. "I know what he knows. I could release you… Haruka." He drew out the name pointedly, then stood still, carefully watching Haruka's reaction. The tengu growled, not believing a word of it.

"Your Kantarou never will. You know that," Kantarou's voice went on. This time Haruka did not want to believe it. He did not want to care that he would always be under Kantarou's control, even if deep down he did. He was the Demon-eating tengu after all, and was proud. Even so, Kantarou was _his_ and, at times, did as _he_ asked. There was freedom in that. Enough at least for now. And he was proud. He would not allow this ghost to destroy his master.

"I don't care," Haruka snarled. "Now get out of his body, damn ghost." Not-Kantarou raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"There's nothing you can do... Haruka," he said, and turned away, raising the sword and stalking towards Suzuki's brother. "Get out of the way. I don't particularly want to kill you." Suzuki Kuumi looked pleadingly towards Haruka as her brother tried to reason with the ghost.

"If you really are Kirara, then this is your _mother_! How could you kill her?" Kantarou's features contorted into a look of pure rage.

"And I was her _daughter_! How could _she _ever have killed _me_?" Kantarou's voice yelled, then he was charging at them and Haruka could see the ghost meant to kill. Ishi Touya drew back in terror, crushing his sister against the wall. Haruka, knowing he was faster than any human, moved deftly in front of them and met Kantarou's sword with his staff. Not-Kantarou growled in irritation.

"Do not interfere, Haruka," he said, and Haruka felt the all-too familiar tug of his name. He drew back for a moment, lowering his staff and Kantarou's eyes watched him curiously, calculating. Haruka frowned and brought himself into a defensive position between the processed Kantarou and Suzuki's brother.

"You're not my master," he said defiantly. And this thing really wasn't. The bond was still there, he could feel it. So something of Kantarou remained, but it was vague and suppressed and Haruka could defy _this_ being's orders almost easily. He just had to keep telling himself this wasn't Kantarou.

Rage flashed across Kantarou's face and he ran towards Haruka, drawing the sword back to take a swing at the tengu. Haruka easily met the attack and pushed back, causing Kantarou to stumble a little.

"I've waited years for this," not-Kantarou snarled. "I won't let you stop me." And he attacked again, lashing furiously with the sword. Haruka easily avoided the sword, but found it increasingly difficult to temper his anger and not fight back.

"Kantarou," he spoke quickly, precisely. "I know you are still there, so fight her!"

"He's too weak," not-Kantarou laughed, withdrawing slightly and taking the point of the sword in his free hand carefully. "He'll be gone soon..." He paused, thinking, then a large grin spread across his face. "And if that happens, I suppose you will not last long either. Maybe. I wonder how that works. Not even he knows that."

"All the more reason for me to stop you," Haruka replied and held up his staff. He'd seen enough. If Kantarou could not exorcise himself, he would do it. Not-Kantarou backed off a little, looking confused.

"What are you...?" The roar of Haruka's lightening cut off the end of his sentence, and Kantarou screamed in pain as it curled around his body, attempting to force out the foreign spirit. Haruka concentrated harder. The daughter's rage was strong and she clung to Kantarou's body with a desperation the tengu had not come across before. But he didn't want to hurt Kantarou either, and the way she was clawing and scraping at Kantarou's mind to hang on to the body would do damage if she kept it up much longer.

"Let go of him!" Haruka demanded, sending one last powerful shock through his master's body before dispelling the lightening, afraid anymore would kill Kantarou.

Kantarou fell hard to his knees, panting heavily, his arms outstretched in front of him holding himself up. Haruka approached cautiously.

"Kantarou?" he ventured. In the corner of the room, Suzuki continued to weep fitfully, asking again and again if it was over. Haruka did not know.

Kantarou's breaths calmed a little and he sat up slowly, looking around him. His eyes rested on the sword laying where it bad fallen a few inches from his right. He reached out a little and touched it gently, thoughtfully, then with a swift movement took the sword in his hand and brought it up to his own throat. Eyes that were not Kantarou's looked up at Haruka from beneath Kantarou's white hair. Haruka felt a knot tighten in his stomach and he stepped back carefully, certain now the ghost processing Kantarou was completely insane.

"I told you I would not let go of this body, tengu," Kantarou's voice sneered. "But if I can not keep it, at least perhaps I can have my revenge."

"I won't let you keep his body," Haruka confirmed vehemently. An amused smile tugged at Kantarou's lips.

"Fine. Then we'll make a deal." Not-Kantarou paused and looked towards the corner in which Suzuki and her brother still cowered. "Let me kill her, and I will leave this body." Suzuki gasped in horror, and begged Haruka not to agree. Haruka found he could not look at her.

"Refuse and I'll slit his throat, killing us all." Kantarou's hands pressed the blade against his own neck to emphasize the point, breaking the skin so that a sliver of blood crept down that white, delicate skin. To Haruka, there didn't seem like much choice. His own life aside, he could think only of Kantarou. With every second this farce drew on he could feel his master slipping away to nothing; his soul being pulled to who-knew-what fate at the hands of the demon inhabiting that house. Though he hated to admit such weakness, he cared too much for the human to let that happen. And he wanted _his_ Kantarou back with _him_. The touch, and taste, and smell of that one human intoxicating him again, as it had done only the night before. It was selfishness, he knew. And Kantarou might hate him for it, but to Haruka, Kantarou's life was far more important than that Suzuki woman's life could ever be. She cowered there still; weak and crying and defenseless. Even so, Haruka felt unsettled and thought perhaps this was guilt. But he was not human, he told himself. He generally didn't like humans anyway, he argued. Kantarou was an exception. An exception because he did not kill, and loved his kind and was everything Haruka was not. Without a doubt, Kantarou would hate Haruka if he just let the ghost kill. But what else could he do? With every minute that passed Kantarou's features grew more impatient and the blade pressed deeper into Kantarou's throat. That same human who had made him love had also made him feel guilt at what he was about to do.

"Fine," Haruka agreed shortly. Suzuki, and her brother now too, pleaded with him. But he did not listen and would not allow himself to care. His eyes looked only at Kantarou. Smiling dangerously, Kantarou stood up and brought the sword away from his own throat to point again at Suzuki. Haruka just hoped there was little enough left of Kantarou now that he would not know what was happening. With that in mind, Haruka wrenched Ishi Touya away from his sister.

"He was not part of the deal," he explained flatly at Kantarou's curious look. There was that malicious smile again.

"Fine." Kantarou turned his attention back to Suzuki and stalked predatorily towards her. "Now you shall know just what this feels like, mother," the ghost spat, and lazily raised the sword. Ishi Touya fought frantically in Haruka's grasp, begging him to help his sister. Haruka continued to watch Kantarou, and tried to think of nothing. A manic grin spread across Kantarou's face, enjoying, savouring even, the sight of her mother begging for mercy and sobbing hysterically in terror, before bringing the sword down to slash across her chest. Suzuki choked and coughed, blood now staining the front of her fine kimono as it seeped from the open wound. She attempted to grab her assailant, but the ghost drew back the sword and thrust it deep into her stomach. Suzuki coughed wretchedly, the ghost watching wide-eyed, hands clutching the sword tightly still, as the woman slumped. Dead.

"I've had my revenge on her," the ghost said, never taking Kantarou's eyes off the body before her. "That is enough for now. I shall leave this body..

"Get away from her," Haruka demanded, but the ghost just looked back at him briefly, cruel smile still fixed on that face, before looking back at the body.

"No." Then there was a loud hiss as the spirit left Kantarou, forming for a moment into a thick black shadow. The hollow eyes of the ghost admired its handiwork once more before dissipating into nothingness.

Haruka shoved Ishi Touya aside frantically, intent on getting Kantarou away from the dead Suzuki and the sword in his hands before the human came to his senses. But it was too late. He could see Kantarou's eyes were his own again now, wide not with glee but with complete horror. Kantarou looked down at his hands, still tightly grasping the sword and choked, confusion clouding his face. He let his arms fall limply to his sides, his face turning a deathly shade of white. Ishi Touya was shouting and crying at no one inparticular. He fell to his knees and drew his dead sister into his arms. Kantarou watched, sickening comprehension on his face. Haruka cursed that bitch of a ghost, and fell to the floor beside his master, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Kantarou felt stiff and cold in his arms, his eyes glazed.

"It wasn't you," Haruka whispered into his ear, and placed one hand gently over Kantarou's eyes. He wondered if he had really made the right choice after all, in letting the ghost murder using Kantarou's body. Haruka felt eye-lashes brush against his palm as Kantarou blinked. He turned towards Haruka.

"Haruka?" His voice was quiet, shaken.

"I'm here," he replied, keeping his hand over Kantarou's eyes to try and block out the sight of the murdered woman.

"Is this real?" he asked. And there was such desolation in his voice that Haruka could not bear to say it was. So he just pulled Kantarou into a closer embrace and told him everything was fine, even though he didn't really believe it himself.


End file.
